


How To Succeed On Sakaar Without Really Trying.

by BawdryWeirdsley



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Bondage, Bottom Loki (Marvel), Caning, Chastity Device, Collars, Corporal Punishment, Dubious Consent, Ejaculate, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Large Cock, M/M, Master/Pet, Non-Consensual Tickling, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Object Insertion, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Power Exchange, Public Humiliation, Public Sex, Sakaar (Marvel), Size Difference, Spanking, Sub Loki (Marvel), Teasing, Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Tickling, Top Thor (Marvel), Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-06-23 14:59:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 42,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19703749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BawdryWeirdsley/pseuds/BawdryWeirdsley
Summary: When Loki plummets to the junkwastes of Sakaar a prince turned pauper he'll do anything to claw his way back to the top. But when he unwittingly offends a powerful guest at a party, his upward trajectory accelerates far beyond his control.





	1. Green and Gold

If the junkwastes of Sakaar were far from Asgard in literal miles, the filth and ferocity was further still from the luxurious and pampered lifestyle that Loki Laufeyson had known of late.

Of course the good people of Asgard had assumed that he was Odin when they laid their tributes at his feet or listened to his sage advice that was only _occasionally_ designed to cause the most chaos possible, but still, he was used to a certain amount of luxury, and this most definitely wasn’t it.

Maintaining the facade of The Allfather demanded a degree of decorum that had perhaps been less amusing than he’d hoped, _and yet_.

His banquets, his festivals, the glorious masques to memorialize Dear Departed Loki’s greatest moments- his statue. His lovely, lovely statue! All of the treasures and pleasures he'd accumulated as Odin were gone now. _Hela’s or Thor’s?_ He was determined not to think about it. 

Being presumed dead on Asgard was certainly a lot better for the ego than being alive on Sakaar, but being _actually_ dead on Asgard was worse than either. 

_Mjolnir_. S _he crushed Mjolnir to dust in one hand, and what will she do to Thor if he’s rash enough to challenge her?_

_No_.

He mustn’t dwell on that- nor the death of Odin. _Pack it up and put it away to be pondered later_. For now, there was Sakaar to survive. 

Loki swore as his boot plunged through a scum of floating junk into the soupy wastewater below. He could have used his powers to skim over the mire, but even while he’d been plummeting towards the revolting surface of this horrible planet his mind was calculating the angles. 

It would not do to stand out- Not until he had the measure of this place. Only an idiot would call attention to himself in a potentially hostile land, and the less the people of this world knew about him and the extent of his abilities the better. 

Loki was a God who longed above all else to be worshiped, but if worship wasn’t on the table then being underestimated by your enemies was the next best thing.

And so he crawled and stumbled up the rust-pocked flanks of decaying space freighters, slithered and slipped over drifts of moldering food and the swollen carcasses of strange beasts that bobbed in the rippling sickly tides, another lost thing among the cast-off detritus of a hundred worlds. When the scavenger ships droned overhead he used an unobtrusive concealment cantrip to blend in with his surroundings until they had moved on. In truth the spell work was barely necessary. He was soon so coated with filth that he merged almost seamlessly with the mire without using magic.

_This morning I was lolling on a silken couch eating grapes._

But now was not this morning, and he must try to accept it. It was temporary. All just another minor downward turn in his glittering trajectory. 

_Besides, I don’t even like grapes_.

But by the time he reached the edge of the junkwaste he was soaked, reeking and furious, his cautious plans replaced with a new one that involved locating the first sentient being foolish enough to cross him and making it regret the day it had been born, hatched or constructed as applicable.

Until that was, he fell in love.

What was it that made his heart flutter so? Afterwards he could never be sure. The contrast between the vast, candy-colored metropolis and the dismal wasteland surrounding it? Perhaps it was the tower that rose up at the heart of the city like an up-thrust fist, or some other, more obvious part of humanoid anatomy. Ostentatious even by his standards the Tower dwarfed the other buildings like the colossal carapace of some exotic insect. 

Vast faces constructed from strange shimmering alloys glowered down out of the tangle of eye-watering architecture to gaze on the neon below. Whoever was in charge of this place had a flair for style, drama and the ostentatious spending of gold in the face of abject poverty that thrilled even Loki’s heart.

_Mine._

Was the first thing he thought.

Then, 

_How?_

The longer he walked through the City, the more it pleased him. The stench of the junkwaste was all but obliterated the scents of fishes (and stranger creatures) frying in shallow dishes of golden oil, strange dusky fruits piled high in merchant’s wagons, peppery spice wine and the sharp mineral scent of high-octane rocket fuel from the ships that hulked through the air above. The people wore bright colors and painted their faces with splashes of neon and gold. The wide streets where the evidently monied were carried aloft on palanquins by masked heavies lay cheek-by-jowl with dim alleyways where thieves scuttled and confidence men shook down the gawking tourists who’d strayed too far from the gaming halls, and bawds plied their trade.

As much as he’d always longed to rule Asgard, when it came down to it even he had to admit that the realm was a little _dull_.

In his travels through the multiverse Loki had come to know that it was Kingdoms, not hunting dogs who looked like their owners, and he imagined that the owner of this particular fiefdom would be every bit as colorful and scurrilous as the city they presided over. 

_It’s like it was made for me to rule, really. It would be rude not to._

* * *

With the Tower as his goal, Loki felt soothed, and once he’d found a suitably dim doorway in which to rid himself of the junkwaste’s filth and transform his clothing into something that would blend in better, he was almost cheerful. A drink of violently flavored neon green tea was laughably easy to flatter out of a tall woman selling cups from a great gold kettle. From the same smitten lady he managed to wheedle the information that the ruler of Sakaar was an ancient and powerful being known only as the Grandmaster.

Not a bad title- a little literal perhaps.

According to his new friend- _won’t you have another cup, Beautiful Boy?_ \- there were several ways inside the tower for the waif in need. _Not the arenas- not with that new Champion he has, and besides, you’re far too handsome for that, my flower._ The tower and the pleasure ships of the wealthy went through waiters and pillow servants at a rate that made your head spin, and if one wanted to get a glimpse of the Sakaarian high-life, that was an easy enough path for anyone who could smile and look pretty.

Loki thanked her effusively for the tea, promised he’d be back later that evening after she’d closed up shop, and promptly forgot all about her. 

Her words however replayed themselves in his mind over and over. He didn’t fancy handing out drinks to the bloated rich of Sakaar any more than he enjoyed the prospect of ornamenting some pampered brat’s pillow. A Prince in exile was still a Prince, after all.

And yet when he examined the Tower- very carefully, from as far away as he was able- he soon saw that the wards around the place were too powerful even for him to slip through without alerting whoever had set them.

He had to admire the craftsmanship of the magic, as inconvenient to his plotting as it was. The design of the spell work was as showy and ostentatious as the rest of Sakaar with all sorts of needless arcane flourishes, and yet it made you want to keep looking. The longer he did, the more curious Loki found himself about this Grandmaster person. Was he a mere figurehead? The rich puppet of some secret power behind the throne, or was he the heart of this peculiar city of pleasure and vice? More importantly, was he someone Loki could reach, and once reached, could he be bested?

All that afternoon Loki drifted through the city picking up what gossip he could- The Grandmaster loved the pleasures of the pillow above all else. The Grandmaster could only be satisfied by the sight of blood soaking the arena sand. He was cruel, terrifying, a warped, ancient being one dared not look at directly. He was charming, playful, amusing, devastatingly handsome. All the stories were slightly different, and yet if you laid them atop one another you could glimpse a Palimpsest of truth- The Grandmaster _was_ Sakaar, and if he wished to move up in this temporary new world of his, he’d need to find a way to get close to him.

And so as the suns were setting Loki found himself in the Neon-drenched courtyard of _At Your Pleasure._ The neon ‘P’ blinked on and off erratically, but Loki supposed the message was all the same, phonetically at least. This building was the place to come when you needed a supply of pleasure or leisure in human form, and his eyelash-fluttering tea girl had been adamant that he’d be flying high above the streets of Sakaar in no time once he presented himself at their door.

It turned out that she’d been as overly optimistic about his chances of employment as she had been about her chances of bedding him.

‘In the Grandmaster’s palace? We _might_ have something. In a month from now.”

Loki smiled his most winning smile at the being who lay supine on the plump sofa. Behind him a long line of hopefuls jostled and fidgeted, checking makeup, tugging at the hens of their scandalously short gowns, or patting elaborate hairdos. “Nothing sooner than that?”

“Nope.” Long blue fingers selected a candied beetle from a silver platter and conveyed it to the fleshy mouth. Four golden eyes ran up and down Loki appraisingly. “Might have something on the Pleasure Ship for tonight.”

“Doing what?” 

“Serving drinks.”

Loki tried to keep his annoyance off his face. “Anything more...?”

The being chuckled. “More what? You’re lucky I’m offering you that. We had a last-minute drop-out, and you’re about the right type. It’s simple enough. Hold a tray and look pretty. Seems like you could manage it.” The blue creature leered. 

“And that’s all you have?”

“All I have? There’s a hundred others behind you who’d be glad of it!”

“I’ll take it,” said Loki,” smiling. “Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.”

The being reached out a tentacle and ran it up his thigh. “Well, remember your old Pal Myrry when you’re counting out your tips. And by that I mean remember that we keep 90% of them.”

_When I rule this place I’ll have your head mounted on my privy wall,_ thought Loki, smiling sweetly.

The being heaved himself from his sofa, scattering beetle crumbs across the lush carpet. “Right, we’re closed!” he bellowed to the waiting line of applicants. “No more help needed today, come back tomorrow.. Anyone still in my office in five minutes is going on my List.”

There were groans and angry mutterings from the throng of hopefuls, but what did Loki care about that? He was in. In at the bottom by the sounds of it, which at least left _up_ the only possible direction.

“What’s your list?” asked Loki.

“Never you mind. All you need to know is that you don’t wanna be on it. Not if you want to get ahead on Sakaar.”

“Noted.”

“Come on, come on, ship’s leaving soon to pick up the Gentry,” Myrry urged him, wrapping an unpleasantly slimy appendage around Loki’s waist and hustling him through a door in the back of the gleaming atrium. “Got to get you prettied up. You ever served drinks before?”

“I’ve seen it done,” said Loki as smoothly as he could manage. Mentioning that he was accustomed to being the one served by some faceless beauty and not doing the serving himself seemed impolitic. Not to mention too painful to bear. Thrice- _Damn_ Odin _. Trust him to leave a surprise like Hela until the last possible second. In a month from now all this will be mine, and with a Sakaarian Mercenary force behind me I can see about getting my Kingdom back. Not to mention that Brother of mine._

He tried to hold onto that thought as he was fitted for his uniform for the night- a pale green toga that tied at one shoulder leaving half of his chest bare, with a pair of very small, very tight gold undergarments that exposed far more than they covered. As the hem of the toga barely skimmed the top of his thighs he felt unbearably exposed, which, he reflected was obviously the point.

_When you’re Grandmaster this will seem like a hilarious joke_ , he reassured himself as a harried elf of a woman painted his eyelids with gold and daubed a matching stroke across his bared nipple. _I’ll tell it as I watch every one of these wretches torn apart in the Arena_.

The Pleasure Ship waited in a hangar at the rear of Pleasure and Leisure. A beautiful craft which Loki immediately added to his list of future acquisitions.

“Who does it belong to?” Loki hissed to a fair-haired man in an identical green toga to his own, who leaned against a pillar rapidly smoking a stinking rollup of Foxflower.

“You’re new, are you?” He asked raising a painted eyebrow. His pupils were huge with the effects of the drug, but Loki could tell he was sizing him up, trying to see how much of a dent Loki was going to make in his own tips. He was encouraged by the frosty tone of the man’s voice when he replied, “His Excellency the High Oligarchy of Garond.”

“Not Grandmaster?”

“No. But they’re friends, he _might_ be on board. Depends if there’s a better party elsewhere. Which there most likely is.” He looked Loki up and down. “This one does not seem to be of the highest quality. I don’t know what Myrry was thinking assigning _me_.”

“Your nipple’s painted crooked,” said Loki, with a small bow.

He turned his back on the glowering blond with a satisfied smile.

A gaggle of other green-dressed men and women had joined them, Myrry ticking names off his holopad as they arrived. “Jaxx, sort your hair out. Stania, good to see you, Precious. Golds! In you go, full crowd tonight, let’s make some money, Kids.”

Ten servers clad in gold togas with jewels woven into their hair were sweeping through, noses in the air.

“Who are they?” Loki asked the woman next to him.

“VIP servers,” she said, wistfully. “The serve in the Gold Suite.”

Loki frowned. “And how does one get to serve in there?”

The woman smiled at him. “It’s easy! Just ask Myrry to put your name on the waiting list. I’ve only got five more months to go!”

Loki groaned inwardly. If Grandmaster was going to be aboard tonight it seemed likely he’d be in the Gold Suite. Well, changing a green tunic to a gold one was no great feat of magic, and once they were in the air with the guests nicely drunk and the staff distracted he’d find a way in. All he had to do after all was to engineer a meeting with this Grandmaster. He was quite confident that a minute would do to find his in.

Sweating porters carrying covered trays of food bustled up the gangway, colliding with musicians carrying weird thaumaturgic instruments. A group of pillow servants wearing glittering body paint, jeweled collars and not much else shoved their way through the throng. 

“Greens, on you go!” Bellowed Myrry. He grabbed at Loki as he went by. “The new boy don’t have an obedience disk! Burr!”

A stocky Kronan lumbered towards the two of them, fishing in his belt for a round metal object, which he slapped against Loki’s neck.

Loki yelped as a shock of electricity prickled his skin.

“What by the Nines is that?”

Myrry shook his head. “Obedience disk. It’s standard for servers. Can’t have anyone running wild aboard the Gentry’s ships, can we? It’s all in the contract.”

“I didn’t sign any contract.”

“Didn’t you? Well it’s too late now. We’re launching in five minutes. It’s no big deal, flower. Unless you were planning on being a naughty boy.”

“I...”

Myrry pinched his cheek. “Don’t sweat it, Baby. We’ll take it right off the minute you land. If you want to work with the Gentry on Sakaar, you wear the disk. It’s the rules.”

Loki rubbed tentacle slime off his cheek and glowered at the retreating Myrry. His fingers moved up to touch the silver disk that had burrowed itself into his skin. It was a hybrid construct of cybernetics and magic, and to his dismay he felt it melding itself with his own powers, locking them down. When he sent out a discrete experimental cantrip, the disk responded violently, jolting him with a stinging shock of energy, and ripping the incantation to shreds.

_Damn_.

Not knowing what else to do, he allowed himself to be jostled up the gangway with the other Servers. 

_So you can’t use your magic. You still have your charm and your wits and that’s more than enough for a God._

But he did not care for the feeling at all. How had all of this happened so quickly? From ruler of Asgard, mighty warrior feared by the Magicians of Midgard, to serving drinks in what was really a _ridiculously_ scanty toga in the space of one day? _Where is Thor right now? No doubt landed on a silk cushion somewhere._ Trust Loki to get the sour end of the deal as usual _.  
_

* * *

His mood did not improve when the ship docked across town to allow the Gentry to board. Even an up-close view of the great Tower was nothing but a tease when he had no way of sneaking into it. The guests barely looked at him and his fellow servers as they stood arrayed around the room holding their serving trays. The drinks on his own tray were a bright purple glowing concoction that smelled to Loki like the medicine they used to give sick horses back home.

_I ought to be among these guests, not standing here like furniture_ , he thought furiously to himself, as the richly robed patrons arrayed themselves on pillows and couches, gossiping and laughing over the sound of the discordant music. Every now and then the doors to the Gold Suite opened to allow a sumptuously attired guest past the hulking Bravos who guarded the sanctum. Without his magic there seemed no way at all for Loki to gain access, and so he was forced to circle the room with his tray, wordlessly kneeling to Sakaar’s worthies and hangers on. As the night went by and the party became wilder, pillow servants were pulled into laps, or set to work using their mouths and clever fingers as required, and Loki's tray emptied and was refilled over and over..

It seemed that the servers were not immune from the bacchanalian mood although they’d been informed that lying with Guests was strictly forbidden unless one wanted fairly vital parts of the anatomy removed by the pillow servant’s guild. As Loki circled the room, greedy hands moved up his thighs, squeezing his buttocks as he bent to offer his tray, tweaking at his gilded nipple, and even grazing the backs of hands-as if by accident- over his prick, which to be fair was presented like a delicacy wrapped in the snug gold garment.

The touches might have aroused him if he’d been a Guest, but as a server they infuriated him. To paw and fondle a Prince of Asgard! The insult was unbearable, and what was worse, he seemed no closer to the Grandmaster than he had slogging through the junkwastes.

As the music grew louder and the Guests and pillow servants began to couple on the silk pillows, Loki’s fellow waiters filed out of the room, and having no better plan, he followed them down a short corridor back to the dim, unlovely serving quarters.

Men and women in green sat where they could rubbing aching feet, and yawning. Loki slumped down on top of a crate, rubbing at the obedience disk. Its presence bothered him even more than the groping of the awful Guests. This had not been one of his better plans.

A couple of gold-clad women were laughing over a goblet of pilfered wine.

“He’s in a good mood tonight! Gold is flowing like piss.”

“I wonder where that bed slave of his went? I told Finera she wouldn’t last long. She was beautiful but boring, and Grandmaster does _not_ do boring.”

“He surely doesn’t sister. He’s a kook, but a groovy Kook. I wish I had a chance at that.”

Loki’s ears pricked up at this, obedience disk forgotten. So Grandmaster _was_ aboard! The question was, how to get to him?

“You! New boy,” Loki gritted his teeth at the sound of Myrry’s croak. “Bring these out, will you? Folks are getting thirsty in there. The rest of you too! You’re not being paid to sit around.” A fresh tray of lurid purple drinks was shoved into his hands, and he was hustled back down the corridor through the archway into the party room.

A tall scrawny man, with an orange spiked beard and opals the size of pigeon eggs dangling from his ears gestured him over. “You! Bring me one of those Quasars!”

Loki smiled pleasantly and pictured the balding head rolling at his feet as he picked his way around the couches and pillows where groups of revelers cavorted. 

Instead of taking a drink, the man ran a finger down Loki’s cheek. “New face? I haven't seen you serving here before. You’re far too pretty to be holding a tray. I have something better for you to hold.”

“You flatter me,” said Loki, acidly. “But it is not allowed.” 

The man was too drunk or too stupid to read his tone. “Oh go on, just sit on my lap a minute. Unless you’d rather sit on my cock? Go on, boy, no one will even notice. I won’t tell your master if you don’t.”

Loki froze. “Will you please excuse me?” he said in a light pleasant tone that would have had anyone who’d known him on Asgard running for cover.

The door to the Gold Suite was clearly out, and he could see Myrry’s bulk hovering in the doorway that led to the serving quarters, which left one exit only- a small door to the room’s left that appeared unguarded.

He was sure that leaving the room without permission would get him in trouble, but breaking this old lecher’s skull for him would likely be worse- the universe was an unfair place.

He just needed a few minutes to himself to _think._

To his vast relief the door hissed open at his touch, and better still there was no drab corridor or roomful of drunken revelers on the other side of it, but instead a small balcony built into the outside of the ship revealing a dizzying view of the neon lights of Sakaar. If not exactly fresh, the air was cool and the smell of perfume and sweat that clung to his skin like yet another unwelcome caress was blown away.

Loki dropped the tray onto a table with a clatter, considered, and knocked one of the purple drinks back in one swallow. He was not his Brother, but he could drink like an Asgardian when the time called for it, and the time definitely called for it. He swallowed a second and then a third, feeling the alcohol begin to unknot the bundle of rage and tension within him. He finished the fourth drink and tossed the empty glass over the balcony. 

“Just throwing them over, are we? Kind of hazardous, but I can respect that. Saves time.” 

Loki jumped at the sound of the voice, whirling round.

A man lounged in one of the low white chairs. His robes were long and blue, but less ostentatious than those he’d seen inside, and although his chin was marked with a stripe of gold no jewels dangled from his person. It was just possible that he was going to get away with this.

The man waved a hand at the tray. “Can you spare one of those, or are you going for broke?”

“Be my guest,” said Loki smoothly, passing the stranger a drink. An older man he was, and rather handsome- shrewd eyes and a quick, flirtatious smile. 

“So, what are you doing here? Serving drinks?”

“It would appear so,” said Loki, struggling with his temper. Was there nowhere in this city one could plot in peace? “What are _you_ doing here?” his tone was ruder than he’d intended, and the stranger raised an eyebrow. 

“Me? Oh, uh, a bit of this and a bit of that. Playing some keyboards just now. We have a good rhythm going,” he snapped his fingers and closed his eyes as if listening to some private beat.

Loki felt faint with relief. 

“Oh, so you’re one of the musicians?”

“I like to think of myself as a musician, sure. You like music, drink guy?”

“It’s Loki, not drink guy, and I don’t, especially.” He considered. “So are you playing in the Gold Suite tonight?”

The musician grinned. “Sure am. I like to play all over the place, but tonight it’s the Gold Room.”

“I heard that the Grandmaster of Sakaar was in there?” said Loki as casually as he was able.

The musician pulled a face as if to say _maybe, maybe not_.

“Does he like music?”

“He _loves_ music,” the man leaned forward in his chair, smiling. “He uh, he likes a lot of things.”

Loki felt his annoyance kindle afresh. He wasn’t sure why it was, but he had the distinct impression this man was laughing at him.

“What else do you know about him?”

“Curious guy, aren’t you?”

Loki shrugged. "One can't help but be curious about the most powerful being on the planet."

The man chuckled. “What else have _you_ heard about him?”

“That he gets bored easily. And that he’s a kook.”

The man’s eyes went wide, and he burst out laughing. “A kook? Really? That’s what people are saying? OK. And what do you think?”

“Well I wouldn’t know,” said Loki, annoyed. “I’m stuck out in the main room with all those revolting people in their horrible jewels”

The musician chuckled again. “Huh. You have strong opinions. I like that.”

He stood up and walked towards Loki. He was an inch taller than Loki himself and the collar of his robes revealed a glimpse of enticingly hairy chest. Normally he was just the sort of man Loki would have been attracted to, but he’d had a long and trying 24 hours, so when the musician reached out to stroke his bare shoulder, Loki stepped back, picking up his tray.

The Musician frowned. “Really? I thought we had a vibe going there, Lokes.”

“It’s Lok _i._ ”

“Loki, then. You’re not up for any fun? I don’t want to brag or anything, but I could make it worth your while.”

Loki had been pawed by rich party guests all night, and he certainly wasn’t going to pleasure some mere musician for the chance of a credit or two. The nerve of it! Loki summoned his haughtiest expression. “Sorry. You couldn’t afford me.”

“Wow, I...”

“Goodnight.”

He swept from the balcony with as much hauteur as he could muster in his skimpy toga, and ran tray first into the man with the orange beard.

By the time the surviving drinks had been mopped off himself and the outraged Guest- who in spite of his outrage still had plenty to say on the subject of licking Loki clean- he no longer cared about meeting the Grandmaster. All he wanted was to get off the ship as soon as possible.

A goal that Myrry seemed all too eager to help him with.

“Don’t think I hadn’t noticed you sneaking away! And then to spill drinks- expensive drinks-all over Burgar Jahn! One of my best clients, he is. I ought to throw you over the side! If you think you’re working any of my ships ever again, you’re mistaken! You, petal, are on my List!”

If it hadn’t been for the Obedience disk (not to mention the four apparently very potent drinks) the party might have ended very poorly for the Sakaarians, but Loki was too exhausted and dejected for a battle, and instead sat slumped in the service area for the rest of the evening.

They landed just as dawn was rising over the city. Myrry removed the disk from his neck with barely a word.

“The drinks you spilled were worth more than the tips you made,” he sniffed when Loki asked about his wages. “Don’t come back here again.”

Loki said nothing. The old charlatan was clearly robbing him, but he was too tired to care. Instead he found an abandoned rooftop above a shop selling some strange glass instruments and fell into a bleary, unsatisfying sleep.

The next thing he knew he was being shaken roughly awake.

“Oi you! Wake up. I’ve been looking for you all over Sakaar!”

Loki sat up quickly, hands poised to summon his blades.

He dimly recognized the Kronan who peered over the edge of the roof at him. Burr, wasn’t it? He worked for Myrry. Visions of the humiliation of the previous night washed over him.

“Look, if this is a shakedown you can tell your owner that if he bothers me again I’ll feed him his own tentacles.” The blades were in his hands lightning fast.

Burr held up his hands. “Alright, friend, no need to take that tone. I’ve a message is all. Urgent it is, too. You’re wanted on the pleasure ship tonight. Gold Suite.”

Loki blinked. “Me? In the Suite? Is this a trick?”

“Are 500 galactic credits a trick?”

“I don’t need credits.”

Burr shook his head, “Sleeping on a roof with the orloni, and says he don’t need credits. Well my advice is that you come along with me whether you need the gold or not. Saying no to the Grandmaster don’t tend to end so well on Sakaar if you catch my meaning.”


	2. At Your Pleasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki is prepared to meet the Grandmaster. For the first time since arriving on Sakaar he feels in control of himself, and yet that control is slowly stripped away to be replaced with thoughts of his brother that he would rather not be thinking when he needs his wits about him.

Loki’s reception at _At Your Pleasure,_ was rather different than the one he’d experienced the day before. Myrry’s singular face rearranged itself into a mildly terrifying simper the minute he caught sight of Loki.

“If it isn’t my favorite flower! Just as beautiful as ever.”

Loki frowned. “I thought I was on your List?”

“My List? What List?” He chuckled. “Who has a List? Not me! Come, come we must get you ready.”

Loki put his hands on his hips. For most people, twenty four hours without enjoying towering Godlike powers over the lives of others would be no great deprivation, but an addict like Loki was in severe withdrawal, and he meant to enjoy this hit.

“I’m not sure that I’ve said yes, yet. I don’t think I’m the serving type.”

Myrry’s smile became rather fixed. “On Sakaar, everyone’s the serving type if it’s the Grandmaster that’s asking.”

“So I’ve heard.” Loki smiled. “You’re scared of him, aren’t you?”

Myrry chuckled, “Scared? Of course not!”

“What will he do to you if you fail to produce me?”

“It’s what he’ll do to _you_ that you ought to be thinking about!” Myrry said, with a glower that looked much more at home on his face. 

“I haven’t said no, either,” said Loki. “How about you persuade me?”

Myrry swallowed. “Me? Persuade you? Most people...”

“Would die for the chance,” finished Loki. “Unfortunately for you, I’m not most people.”

“I’ll double your fee,” said Myrry, flatly. 

“I won’t serve drinks,”

“He don’t want you serving drinks,” muttered Myrry.

“And I won’t wear a disk.”

“Everyone wears a disk! It’s the rules.”

Loki shook his head. “I suppose Grandmaster will be disappointed then. It sounds like he enjoys novel experiences, so maybe you’ll live? You know him better than I do.”

Myrry chewed the end of a tentacle. “All _right_ , no disk.” The ingratiating expression slide back onto his face. “So you’ll do it?”

Loki considered. “Why has he asked for me? I’ve never met him.”

Myrry shrugged. “I guess he heard there was a new face in town. Very hands on, is Grandmaster.” He leered “Especially when they’re pretty, with long legs like yours. I ‘xpect it was that old goat Burgah Jahn- the one you sloshed two hundred credits worth of alcohol over. He’s called three times this morning asking for a private party. Grandmaster likes first call on the new meat....ah, I mean, the new faces, and he doesn't like Jahn overmuch, so it would be extra amusing for him to snatch you away.”

Loki considered. The whole thing was suspicious, and yet hadn’t he been hoping for a way to meet this Grandmaster face to face? He was unlikely to find anything approaching neutral territory on Sakaar, and if he wasn’t going to be forced to wear one of those wretched obedience disks, then he ought to be able to handle himself if the meeting did not go to his liking.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

Myrry slumped with relief. “Wonderful, wonderful. Let’s get you looking your best for Grandmaster then.”

* * *

Loki was lead through into a pleasant, airy room overlooking the city. It was different from the drab cave where he’d changed into the ridiculous green toga yesterday, but the new costume was no more to his taste.

“I’m not wearing _this_ .”

The man with the long violet hair who was assisting him shot Myrry a _help me_ look.

“Look,” said Myrry. “If you want to impress him, then you’ll wear what we put you in. I’ve been supplying his pleasure for a long long time, and I know what he likes.”

"This is what he likes?” asked Loki, eyeing the scanty garments in the man’s hands with distaste.

“Yes it is. You’ll look like a dream in them, baby.”

Loki sighed. “Very well then. You’d better be right about this.”

The fearful way Myrry’s staff fluttered around him was a balm to his ego even if nothing else came from this peculiar adventure. Loki allowed them to bathe him in a tub of scented water the surface of which shimmered with glowing flower petals of every imaginable color.

He complained only a minimal amount as they brushed out his hair and daubed his eyelids in green glittering paint. 

“Grandmaster asked for oil,” said the violet-haired man, shooting Myrry another worried look.

“Did he now?” said Myrry. “No expense spared. Well I’m sure my flower here understands that it’s in his best interests to please Grandmaster.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“It’s standard for Pillow Servants,” said Myrry.

“But I’m not a Pillow Servant.”

Myrry shrugged. “Still...who knows how the evening might go? It will make Grandmaster happy, which will make _us_ happy. Not to mention keep us both alive, so do me a favor, Loki baby, and let Galder here oil you up.”

Loki considered. He wasn’t against using his body to gain the Grandmaster’s favor, although he’d hoped that charm and guile alone might suffice. The man was sure to be another withered old creature like Burgah Jahn, dripping in jewels, barely even able to get his cock hard. He knew that such men relied on all sorts of tinctures and oils to inflame their desires.

_When you rule this planet, no one need ever know what you did to get there._

“Fine, I’ll do it. Just make it quick.”

Galder left the room and reappeared carrying a small glowing bottle. “If you wouldn’t mind just, ah, taking your robe off and lying down on the table here?”

Loki sighed impatiently and let the plush robe they’d wrapped him in fall to the ground.

He was pleased to see the hungry look in Galder’s eyes as he stole glances at his naked body. Loki had to admit that the attention felt good, and when Galder rubbed the oil onto his gloved palms, and began to work it into his skin, he felt even better.

The oil was warm to the touch and had a faint smell of smoke and musk that reminded him of something.

 _What is it? It’s something I know so well_ ...yet it took him a while to place it; It smelled of _Thor_. His body when he held Loki. The scent of his hair when Loki buried his face in the crook of Thor’s neck as the Thunder God held him down and took him.

 _Now why on Asgard should that be?_ He did not want to think of Thor right now, especially of their lovemaking, and yet the scent of the oil insinuated itself into his senses and kindled the embers of his desire. 

Galder’s gentle but firm hands moving on his skin did not help. He did not rub the oil over his whole body to prettify it as he’d seen done with bed slaves in Asgard, but concentrated his attentions on the most sensitive spots of Loki’s body, the fingers rubbing maddening circles on his belly, his chest, his nipples which grew puffy and swollen under Galder’s lingering touch and some property of the peculiar oil. 

“How is it?” Galder asked.

“Good,” said Loki, not really meaning to. He gasped in spite of himself as Galder’s fingers squirmed in beneath his arms, down his ribs and then over the soles of his feet. 

“Sorry, I know it tickles, but...”

“I know, the Grandmaster likes it, just be quick, it’s _unbearable_.” 

Galder’s face had turned a pleasing pink by the time his hand moved to stroke oil into Loki’s half-hard cock with long, lingering strokes that made Loki shiver.

“You really are beautiful,” Galder breathed. “I can see why Grandmaster asked for you.”

“Galder!” snapped Myrry, who was sitting on a sofa nearby. “Mind on the job, boy.”

“Sorry, Myrry. Um, if you could just roll over?”

Loki was too filled with a growing bliss to argue. He was beginning to see the purpose of the oil. Every part of him that Galder had touched was suffused with a warm tingling sensation as though a thousand soft lips were pressing kisses against his skin. Each spot where the oil had sunk into his skin was a hundred times more sensitive than normal, and even the simple pressure of the warm surface of the table against his belly and cock brought him fully hard.

“Uh, I just have to...” Galder’s fingers, warm and wet with oil moved suddenly against his hole, making Loki bite down a moan. It should have been the gravest insult to his dignity for this stranger’s fingers to be circling the intimate ring of flesh that only Thor had ever owned, for he’d never allowed his other lovers to take him in this way. Yet the oil felt so warm and so good and his body so suffused with desire that he did not mind it, even when Galder’s fingers slid slowly into him, parting him, carefully stroking more of the oil deep inside him, his fingers teasing at the hard nub of his prostate until Loki had to bite his lip to keep from crying out. His cock and his hard nipples rubbed against the surface of the table as he tried not to squirm, and by the time Galder had finished he found himself dizzily balanced on the edge of orgasm.

Galder too breathed heavily, and as Loki sat up and their faces came close together, he pressed his lips against Loki’s own, slipping his tongue into Loki’ mouth.

“Oi! That’s enough of that!” said Myrry. “I don’t know, one whiff of that oil and you lot get all carried away. It’s for the Gentry’s pleasure, not yours!”

Galder jumped back guilty, barely looking at Loki as he hurried from the room.

“Get your costume on, we’ll be leaving in an hour,” said Myrry. “Save that hot blood for Grandmaster. He’s the one what’s paying for it.”

It was good advice Loki reflected, but easier said than done. He felt as though Galder’s fingers were still inside him, stroking and teasing, and as he slipped into the costume- a ridiculously scant pair of shorts that shimmered in rainbow shadows and an ornate silver collar that he never would have considered wearing had his mind not been clouded with lust- the pressure of the fabric trapping his almost painfully hard cock almost brought him back to the edge.

He was relieved when Myrry reappeared with a lurid yellow drink. “Here, this will keep you calm for an hour or so. Some are more susceptible to the oil than others, and it looks like you’re one o’ the ones it works powerful on. Some sort of elemental are you? Fire blood? Or frost?”

Loki who was in absolutely no mood to discuss his Jotun heritage accepted the drink without replying. It was revoltingly sweet, but to his mixed relief and regret his skin felt slightly less like it was being teased by dozens of invisible fingers.

* * *

The looks of astonishment and jealousy of those he’d worked with the evening before were nearly enough to make up for parading through the hanger almost naked.

He particularly enjoyed the expression on the face of the blond man who’d cut him yesterday, and the frowns and whispers of the Gold servants were very nearly as delicious. Myrry trotted alongside him in a proprietary way, gabbling advice and encouragement.

“Now he likes, flattery, but not too much! Don’t be false with him, he won’t like that. But make sure he knows how impressed you are. And don’t bore him. He don’t like to be bored. Keep him guessing. But don’t offend him- he don’t forget an insult easily.”

Loki held up a hand. “Please, I can handle him.”

“If you say so, petal. And watch out for Topaz, his personal bodyguard. If she don’t like you, well....let’s just hope she likes you.”

There was no depressing service room to wait in this time- instead Loki was lead into a bright, pleasant room with an actual window, where he sank into a plush cushion covered in fur that moved and rippled as though alive. The effects of Myrry’s yellow drink were beginning to wear off by the time the ship docked to allow the Gentry to board, and the sensation of delicious warmth suffused him once more. His no longer felt the touch of invisible hands on him, but the merest whisper of pressure on the areas Galder had rubbed the oil was magnified to a shuddery, all-consuming pleasure. The soles of his feet were particularly troublesome as it was all but impossible to keep them from touching either the floor or the torturously soft fur of the cushion, and the intense ticklish feeling set him squirming, which caused his other sensitive spots to add insistent voices to the overwhelming chorus of sensation.

His naturally suspicious mind began to wonder if there was something beyond the simple pillow tricks of a hedonist who’d seen it all in the Grandmaster’s request for him to be prepared in this way, for he was finding it exceedingly difficult to think straight, let alone plan what clever things he might say to fool Grandmaster into thinking he was both nonthreatening and indispensable enough to allow past his defenses. 

The scent of the oil bothered him almost as much as the sensations it invoked. Myrry had told him that the concoction worked on the brain to conjure thoughts of whatever the mind found most arousing, and it troubled him to feel that Thor was near to him when in reality his Brother was a world or two away- possibly in deadly peril. Not to mention the wound to his pride- He did not like to admit how much he felt for Thor. Their squabbling was always more comfortable to him than his surrenders, and yet whenever he felt lost and abandoned he craved those strong arms around him.

With nothing else to do, his mind returned again and again to images of their couplings- Thor’s powerful hands pinning his own above his head. The huge hard length of Thor’s cock, pushing into him, claiming him. The way that in the moments of their lovemaking he could for once set down the burden of his wounded pride and need to be worshiped and instead submit utterly to the will of another- the only other in the universe he would give in to in this way. 

And they never talked about it. It was a secret between the two of them, and seemed set to stay that way. He still did not know whether Thor loved him, or merely found the illicit thrill of forbidden sex exciting. Sometimes it did not matter, or at least sometimes he could convince himself that it did not.

_Please be alive somewhere. Please be lost on some planet like this one where you might find your way back to me, or I to you._

Even assailed by these hardly-cheering thoughts, images of Thor’s body filled his mind- the flat planes of his belly where Loki could run his tongue for hours, the sculpted chest, the golden hair above that hefty, insatiable prick.

His own shaft was fully hard again, and he had to sit on his hands to stop himself from stroking it. He was a God, and had more than one orgasm in him, yet he did not know whether or not he was being observed in this room, and if the mysterious Grandmaster wanted him in this state, he’d not risk displeasing him before they’d even met.

* * *

Another uncomfortable hour went by before he was finally summoned. He felt a bubble of anxiety rise in his chest as a blank-faced Guard beckoned him to follow, but it was soon subsumed by the sensations that coursed through his body. His feet were still the worst, the bare soles tormented horribly by the floor, but the shift of his half-hard cock in its pouch and even the whisper of the mild air circulating through the opulent corridors made him break out in gooseflesh. By the time they’d reached the side-door of the Gold Suite Loki was less occupied with what tack to take with the Grandmaster of Sakaar than a confused fantasy of sitting impaled on his Brother’s cock while Myrry’s shy assistant Galder used his tongue on Loki’s own swollen length.

The Gold Suite was hardly designed to focus the mind. The main lights were dim and colorful spots danced over the space, reflecting off the metallic walls to highlight bare flesh and fine clothing in rainbow flashes. The same discordant music filled the air, and the whole of the back of the room was made of glass, which showed a vertiginous view of the glowing neon chaos of Sakaar.

When Loki’s Guard led him further into the room (the plush carpeting underfoot tickling him almost unbearably) both the music and the sound of chattering guests faded. On a platform at the far end of the room, lost in the dimness a figure lay back on a vast cushion, a pair of Pillow Servants draped decorously at his feet. 

“Is that the Grandmaster?” Loki whispered to his escort.

“Of course it is. Shhh!”

A broad-shouldered Guard stood to the Grandmaster’s side, her face pulled into a suspicious frown.

_Watch out for Topaz._

He’d be happy to, if only he could martial his thoughts. The appreciative murmurs as he passed the party guests did not help. He felt their eyes on his body and the thought of being displayed in such a state- collared and painted and all but naked with his erection quite impossible to hide from the crowd’s delectation- was both humiliating and exciting. _What am I doing here? Why did I think this was a good idea, again?_ No, he must master his discomfort. So what if they stared like hungry wolves? He was a _God_ , as well as a sorcerer. He wore no obedience disk tonight. However befuddled his senses had been by the effects of the oil and Galder’s ministrations, Loki was a capable warrior and could fight his way out of this if he needed to.

This reassuring thought steadied him right up until the figure seated on the platform leaned forward, and the light fell over his face-

It was the Musician.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do love tormenting Loki. I always liked the line in Ragnarok where Loki says he never got a chair. Next chapter, Loki's *so* getting a chair ;-)


	3. The Chair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s not often that the God of mischief finds himself tricked, but the Grandmaster of Sakaar has him at his mercy, and it isn’t a particularly merciful brand of mercy at that.  
> Loki is going to really, *really* regret telling the Grandmaster that he couldn’t afford him.

“So what do you think?” asked the Grandmaster, leaning back on his cushion, and crossing an ankle over his knee. “More kooky than you expected? Less?”

For once in his life, Loki could find nothing to say.

“Oh come on, I’d heard you talk a big game. Don’t disappoint me, Loki of...where was it? Asburg?”

Loki closed his eyes, opened them. “You know who I am?”

The Grandmaster threw up his hands with a smile. “I hadn’t heard you were such a modest little thing! Wow, cool. Pleasantly surprised! God of Asburg...” he paused waiting to see if Loki was going to be bated, then moved on “Borrows a Chitauri army from none less than galactic badass _Thanos_ to invade earth. Stories like that travel, even to us!”

“I wasn’t aware Sakaar knew of events on Asgard.”

The Grandmaster shrugged. “Well I wouldn’t say I’m uh,” his eyes flicked down to Loki’s crotch, “Intimate. Not yet anyway. But my brother has something of your Daddy’s, or so I hear from my sources- Weird guy my brother- never writes. And then, wow, you show up _here_ , and I have to ask myself _why_?”

“I was lost,” said Loki, swallowing.

“And you decided to start, uh, serving drinks on a pleasure ship?”

“I...”

The Grandmaster smiled. “Don’t you look so cute all flustered like that! Don’t worry, Lokes. I know why you’re here. I have to give you credit- most people don’t make it out of the junkwastes. I have the feeling you’re going to be a very amusing toy.”

Loki shook his head, his annoyance momentarily breaking through his overwhelmed senses. “I’m no one’s _toy_.”

“Huh, funny, you kind of look like one right now, all dolled up for me. I hate to break it to you, but everything that lands on Sakaar is my toy, and that includes you.”

This had gone on long enough. Loki had never imagined that the Grandmaster would recognise him. Any hopes he had of tricking his way into the man’s confidence had been blown apart. The only option left was to get out of here and off this planet. He reached for the magic that would summon his blades to his hands and found...nothing.

“Something wrong?” asked the Grandmaster.

Loki tried again for the incantation, but it was as though his powers had been locked up somewhere beyond his reach.

“You hate to see it,” said the Grandmaster to his bodyguard.

“What did you do to me?” snapped Loki.

“Me? I didn’t do anything. That cute little collar though! It’s a fun one. If you won’t wear a disk you get a collar you see. Next level tech. I’m kind of glad you chose it if I’m honest. Shocking people into obedience?” he wrinkled his nose. “It’s so, uh _crude_. I prefer it if we...” he cast his eyes to the ceiling. “What do I prefer we do to them, Topaz?”

The bodyguard eyed Loki suspiciously. “Disintegrate them?”

“What? Ew! No. I didn’t get Lokes here all prettied up and panting just to turn him into goo. I prefer to _educate_ them, and that collar of yours allows me to educate without you doing anything...well, not conducive to a learning environment.”

Loki glanced around the room. The Grandmaster’s guests were watching the spectacle with interest. Beyond them stood a ring of burly Guards armed with laser rifles. He might make it out of here alive if he’d had his wits about him, but even now the oil’s insinuating presence was befuddling his mind. Even in his fright and fury his cock was still half-hard.

“What are you going to do with me?” he asked.

“Oh, whatever I want,” said the Grandmaster. “You might even enjoy some of it. And if you please me, you might get what you want after all.”

“What do you mean?” asked Loki.

The Grandmaster shrugged. “Well you’re here because you want my power. _Maybe-a_ nd this is just a working theory- to steal my warriors? Have another try with earth?”

Loki’s mind whirred. The Grandmaster did not know everything that had happened on Asgard, then. He did not know of his alliance with Thor or the arrival of his sister. Maybe the small gap in his knowledge would serve him later.

“Yes. That’s what I wanted,”he said, trying to look crestfallen.

Grandmaster smiled. “Well then, we could help each other. You be an amusing little toy until I get bored with you, and maybe I could be convinced to lend you an army- Since borrowing them seems like a habit of yours. Generous I know, but I’ve never had a pet God before.”

Loki’s pride stuck in his throat, blocking any words from escaping, but Grandmaster did not seem to require any answer from him.

“Let’s face it, it’s not like you have any choice. Although to be honest, I’m torn. I don’t like liars and you have something of a reputation. So, do I educate you or do I listen to Topaz, here?”

Loki tried again for his powers, but found nothing. He could have screamed remembering how easily he’d accepted the collar being locked around his neck. He should have known that they’d never let him forgo a disk so easily- that Myrry would have had some sort of trick up his slimy sleeve.

“You’re right,” said Loki at last. “I came here to steal. But you can’t blame me for trying. You’re a gambling man, or so I’ve heard. Sometimes you win and sometimes you don’t.”

Grandmaster laughed. “And sometimes you ‘can’t afford’ the prizes. Is that right?”

Loki’s eyes closed. _Damn it_ . Why had he chosen his words so unwisely? _Because you thought he was some foolish musician, not the psychotic Grandmaster of Sakaar. What kind of Grandmaster lurks around on balconies at his own party?_

“It’s a shame,” Grandmaster continued, because you really do look delicious tonight. The oil suits you. Even now with you all edgy and no powers and wondering if I’m going to ah, _dispose_ of you, you look almost ready to shoot that big old Asburgian load for me.”

There was laughter around the room at this and Loki felt his face flush.

The Grandmaster pulled a sad face. “But could I afford it if you did?”

“I spoke unwisely...” Loki began, but the Grandmaster raised a hand.

“Relax, Lokes. I’m a gambling man as you said, so how about we make a little wager? I clearly can’t afford your orgasm, so I’d rather you didn’t have one tonight- Not until I say so, anyway. Here’s the deal- you manage to hold it in, and I let you live long enough to receive my super-fun education, and uh _maybe_ think about getting you a little army of trained killers to take care of your Earth problem.”

“And if I fail?”

“Well, Topaz here does enjoy a disintegration and she really could use cheering up. I am always telling her to lighten up, aren’t I Topaz?”

“Yes, Grandmaster,” said Topaz. Her voice was a monotone, but Loki noted the sparkle in her eye. _She thinks I’m going to fail. Well she’s wrong. As if anyone could reach their peak when contemplating their capture and execution! This wager will be easy to win._

But even as he thought it, he felt the cursed oil working at his nerve endings, ticklish and insinuating.

What else though could he do though? He’d been entirely outmaneuvered by the Grandmaster and robbed of his magic until he could get the damned collar off. The best he could hope for in a fight was to escape with his life.

“Very well, I accept.”

The Grandmaster clapped his hands. “Oh, great! That’s good to hear. Well you’d better take those shorts off, cute as you look in them. You’re not going to need them. Oh! Where are my manners? Turn around so the whole room can watch you. This is a party after all.”

Loki swallowed. _They’ve practically seen everything you have to show in this ridiculous garment_ , he tried to reassure himself, but the words offered little consolation. There were perhaps fifty guests in the Gold Suite and another thirty or so servants. It felt though like roughly five thousand eyes were upon him.

_This is a test. Don’t let him get the better of you._

He slid his thumbs into the low waistband. The shift of the tight fabric against his sensitive cock made it throb and grow fully hard almost at once.

There was a murmur of appreciation from the audience which did nothing for Loki’s acute feeling of humiliation. _Just get it over with_.

Trying not to contemplate the display he was putting on for the worthies of Sakaar- let alone the Grandmaster seated behind him, Loki bent and tugged down the shorts, stepping out of them as gracefully as he could- which was rather gracefully. He was still Loki after all.

“Good, good. Turn around, let me see you.”

Not knowing what else to do Loki obeyed, trying not to hear the excited whispers and laughter of the crowd. His prick was so stiff that it bobbed in time to his heartbeat.

“Wow, Lokes. You’re ready to pop. I really hope that you don’t- sorry Topaz, but it’s true. You’re too pretty to waste. But a bet is a bet. Ladies, escort the Prince of Asburg to his throne, would you?”

The two Pillow Servants who had been sitting at the Grandmaster’s feet rose. They were tall, slim women dressed in shimmering gold, and their eyes took in his naked body in with interest.

Each of them took one of his hands and lead him through the room. Once again the sensation of the soft carpeting on the soles of his feet was almost enough to bring him to his knees, but through sheer willpower he managed to walk through the suite as proudly as anyone could collared and stripped naked. At the far end, opposite the Grandmaster’s own perch sat a tall white chair.

_He planned this. He planned it from the beginning. What a fool you were!_

“Remember the rules, Lokes,” the Grandmaster called out. “If you pop, the chair’s biorhythmic sensors will know. No fooling. Let’s just hope you’re better at self control than you are at, uh, infiltration.”

With that the Grandmaster raised a hand, and the volume of the music rose once more.

“Sit down, My Prince” one of the gold-clad women said in his ear.

Loki looked at the chair again and felt frozen when he realised the purpose of it. The back was tilted slightly so that the sitter would be forced to recline. There were no armrests- instead there were two polished manacles above the cushion where the head would rest. It was the seat that got his full attention though. A short object protruded from it- two small globes about two inches in diameter, attached one on top of the other.

“I trust I don’t need to tell you how to sit on that?” said the woman in gold.

Loki shook his head slowly. He knew what was expected to do, but could he bring himself to do it? To be penetrated this way in front of a roomful of people.

Only Thor had seen him filled so, and even _he_ made love to Loki without meeting his eyes.

Not to mention the fact of the oils Galder had daubed deep within him. The sensation of being invaded, even by so slight an object as the four inches of the chair might be enough to push him to the edge of his orgasm and he knew what the stakes were.

Even now one of the Pillow Servants was pouring something from a glowing bottle onto the protuberance on the seat of the chair, and Loki knew by the smell of musk and leather that reminded him of his Brother’s naked body that it was more of the same terrible oil. 

“The Grandmaster doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” whispered the other Pillow Servant. There was a note of warning in her tone, and perhaps of pity. Maybe it was this that got him moving. He would _not_ be pitied by a mere servant. He turned to face the room once more and took a deep breath. Despite the recommencement of the wild music and swirling lights all eyes were still upon him. The Grandmaster’s face was lost in the dimness, but Loki knew that he too was watching.

_Don’t bore him._

He sank into the chair with as much dignity as he could muster, feeling almost at once the- _it’s a cock- call it what it is_ \- nudging against his sphincter. It spread him wider and wider, the sensation of his most intimate hole being teased open before the crowd of onlookers was almost unbearably pleasurable and demeaning at the same time, and then all at once the first of the balls was inside him, his ring clamping closed, only to be spread open all over again as he sank down over the second ball. The cock was not rigid as the chair was, but yielded slightly as it filled him. He was dismayed at his own disappointment that the thing was no longer. It did not even reach the throbbing, aching knot of his prostate, and although large enough to make him moan, it was nowhere near as large as Thor’s cock.

_Imagine if you were sitting on his lap having him take you this way for all of Sakarr to see._

_No!_

Why on Asgard was he thinking of it? That damned oil. The very last thing he needed if he was to keep control of his oragsm was an image of his Brother mounting him like a sluttish bed slave on that fat, red pole, and...

_Stop!_

He was aware that his breathing was heavy and sweat rolled down his chest. Even the tiny droplets of his sweat tickled the artificially stimulated skin of his belly and ribs unbearably.

“Try not to move,” murmured the Pillow Servant as she secured his wrists to the cuffs above his head. “It will make it far worse if you move.”

Loki could not master his tongue well enough to ask her what she meant, and besides she was already stooping to bring two rests out from the sides of the chair, lifting his legs to hook his knees over them and locking his ankles, so that his legs were spread wide.

_Perhaps this is what she means_

For the shifting of his body on the cock that impaled him as his legs were lifted and secured sent terrible shivers of ecstasy through him, making his nipples stiffen as though being plucked at by invisible fingers and his cock twitch and leak. Someone in the crowd cheered and he remembered his audience with a start. It was unbearable to be exposed and tortured in this way for the amusement of this rabble, yet he had no choice but to take it.

His vulnerable position, hands stretched high above him, anus clenching around the artificial cock that speared him, legs lifted and spread so that his achingly hard prick and tight ready sack were on full display meant he could do nothing to save his dignity. Even his feet must now be bound, a loop around each of his great toes securing them to the armatures that supported his legs, so that the tingling soles were stretched taught and exposed to the shifting air of the room. He could squirm the rest of his toes if he chose to, but other than that his feet were immobile and the thought of what _that_ might mean unnerved him almost more than the closeness he felt to losing control and spending his load for all of Sakaar to see.

_And of course there’s your impending death by disintegration._

Again he waited for the grim thought to pour cold water on his desire, but again it did not.

“Good, good, doesn’t he look a picture?” came the Grandmaster’s voice again. “Remember, Lokes, if you can last until, Hmmm, let’s say sun-up without giving in, you get to live to enjoy the sunrise. Have fun with him people, but let’s not have anyone touch his cock, OK? Don’t want to be _cruel_ to the poor thing.” 

He could barely focus on the Grandmaster’s words, let alone his face. He must suffer this until _sun-up_? That must be hours from now! And now some of the party guests were approaching him, moving closer to stand around the chair where he was bound so helplessly. Two young men and a woman with a devilish grin on her pretty face. He closed his eyes, hoping to will them away, but it was impossible.

“A shame we don’t get to play with his prick,” one of the men said. “Look how hard it is. Do you think he’ll make it ten minutes?”

“I hope so,” said the woman. “He looks fun. Grandmaster knows how to choose them.”

Loki started as a finger trailed down his cheek. The three guests laughed.

“I’d try not to move if I were you,” said the woman. She turned to one of her suitors and pressed a kiss to his mouth. “Let’s see how strong the will of a Prince is. Where do you think they put the oil? The feet of course. Beneath his arms. That flat little belly?”

“We should find out,” said the third man. He was stroking the bulge of his own prick through the loose satin pants he wore and Loki tried and failed not to be aroused by the sight of it.

The shame and outrage that he would have felt had he been in his right mind was there, but it was obliterated by the great warm tide of desire that ensnared him.

Now the guests knelt to the side of his chair. “The ribs, do you think?” one of the men said, with a wicked smile.

“Try him.”

Before Loki could react, the man’s fingers were tickling, feather-light down his ribs. The sensation was beyond excruciating and Loki cried out, trying and failing abjectly to squirm away from the man’s touch.

And now the terrible truth of the Pillow Servant’s warning was revealed to him. As soon as he began to wriggle he felt a nudging in his hole. The artificial cock that had him stretched so deliciously was _growing._ Another of the round balls- much wider than the first two was rising from the seat, pressing against the helpless hole, gaping him wider and wider until with a sudden jolt that made him shout it surged up inside him.

The three guests laughed.

“Oh, that was _close_. See how his spend flows.”

Loki could feel it- the great thumping pulse of his orgasm rising up inside him. He fought it down, trying to think of anything, _anything_ but the fullness of his hole.

_Keep still, Gods keep still_. The top ball was now a half inch away from his prostate and he knew that if the phallus within him rose another fraction it would send him over the edge.

If only they’d give him time to fight it back! There was a part of him that even _wanted_ to come. He’d never been this ready, this hopelessly aroused before in all of his life and Gods he wanted that relief, and yet must fight it if he wished to live.

_For hours yet. You’re here for hours._

The three guests were all laughing as if his torment was a tremendous joke. And soon the other young man leaned towards him. “The belly next.”

Loki bit down a plea. He’d not beg for mercy. _Never_. He gasped as the man’s fingertips began to tickle his belly, muscles trembling with the effort of keeping still.

“Oh, much better,” cooed the woman. “Maybe he’ll last the hour after all? Let’s see.”

She bent in and kissed the tip of his nose, then her fingers were squirming beneath his armpits, tickling him without mercy, her fingers dancing down over his ribs, then coming back up to the horribly overstimulated flesh of his chest.

“Oh, see how his cock twitches when I tease his pretty little nipples! Good thing the chair can’t sense _that._ ”

The third man still stroked his own prick, his head cocked to one side. When he saw Loki’s desperate eyes on him he grinned. “I never knew Gods were so ticklish. You suffer very beautifully. See how hard you’ve made me?”

The woman stopped her torment of Loki’s body and smiled at her friend. “I bet you wish that was inside him instead, Chanse. Maybe the Grandmaster will share?- If his new pet survives long enough.”

“Mmmm, He’s good enough to eat,” the man leaned in. He was handsome with dark hair and a strong jaw that bristled with stubble. He licked at Loki’s lips and slid his tongue into his mouth. Loki kissed him back helplessly.

“He tastes divine. Let us hope he sticks around. Of course the real test of his self-control is the feet.”

Loki gasped. He was barely-just barely keeping control right now. Even the damned air on the soles of his feet was ticklish. If anyone actually _touched_ him there. But now the third man was withdrawing to kneel in front of him.

“Please don’t!” the words were out before he could stop them.

The man looked up at him. “Begging already?”

“I’m not...begging.”

The man shook his head. “Oh, well in that case.” He started with a single finger, tracing lightly up the sole of Lokis’ left foot, from heel to toes. Loki threw his head back and howled. It was like nothing he’d ever known. He fought and struggled in spite of himself, but his bonds were unyielding.

“No, please Norns, _stop_!” But the pressure on his abused hole was growing already as another sphere larger again than the previous one pressed against him, sliding slowly into his hole as he begged and struggled. The end of the dildo snubbed against his prostate and he felt himself begin to tip over into orgasm almost at once.

_No, no, you can’t._

Barely, just barely he held himself back. Perhaps it was the unbearable sensation of the man’s clever fingers now tickling his soles in earnest, but Loki just managed to tamp his orgasm back down. He was aware of the sweat that rolled down his body, and his whimpers as he fought to stay still as the three guests went to work on him, tickling and teasing without mercy. Between the three of them and the infernal chair there was no part of him the oil had enlivened that was not relentlessly tormented except for his cock, which pulsed with a need that went unsatisfied.

“Oh Gods, I’m ready to come,” the young man said finally. “This is too much fun. Let’s watch the others have him while we fuck.”

Loki trembled all over with effort and humiliation, but mercifully the movement was not enough to trigger another assault on his hole, and to his surprise the artificial cock actually withdrew a sphere.

_So that’s how it works. Move and it will fill you, push you over. Stay still long enough and you get some respite._ It was utterly devilish, and Loki felt a thrill of fear to be at the mercy of the mind that had conceived it.

But he had no time to worry about the Grandmaster now, for another group of guests were moving forward, running their hands all over his body. Fingers were pushed into his mouth, stranger’s teeth and tongues grazed his nipples, his spread thighs were scratched and slapped and stroked. And the sadistic among them went to work trying to goad him into squirming, tickling his belly and ribs and soles with no respite.

He kept waiting for his nerve endings to become used to the sensation of the never-ending stream of torment, but some property of the oil seemed to prevent it. Every new touch on his body-especially his bound and helpless feet was as ticklish and excruciating as the first had been.

And he had no choice but to take it. As the minutes turned to hours and the hours piled up the phallus worked its way in and out of his hole over and over, keeping him balanced on the edge of an all-consuming orgasm that never came.

He was begging well before the end, and only stopped when he lost the capacity for words.

No mortal man could have survived it. The heart would have given out, but-perhaps cruelly- Loki’s Jotun body was more than capable of surviving the torture, and so he had no chouce but to endure it.

A few times during the night a cup of cool water was pressed to his lips so that he might replace the sweat that coursed from his tormented body, but other than that he was allowed no respite.

* * *

He barely even noticed when dawn came. His hole was almost fully stuffed now, seven or eight spheres deep, gaped wide but still aching with pleasure. His body tingled all over and his cock was a miserable but delicious rod of need. He was so dazed that he barely noticed when the ship docked and the crowd began to leave the room, chattering and laughing and yawning, sated from the night’s pleasures.

It took him a bleary minute to realise that the room was lit by pale dawnlight, that the music had ended and that a figure stood before him.

Wearily he raised his head and found himself looking up into The Grandmaster’s face. The two Pillow Servants and his Guard, Topaz stood just behind him. Topaz looked as stern as ever, but one of the Pillow Servants shot him a small smile. 

The Grandmaster shook his head. “I have to give it to you, Lokes. You’re a man of many surprises.There were a few times when I didn’t think you were going to make it. But here you are.” He whistled. “I guess you win our bet!”

Loki could only whimper in reply, hating to be reduced to this pitiful state, but helpless to put up any sort of front. All he could think of was the pulsing need between his legs.

“So should I Iet you come? You put on a good show, after all; One we’ll have to repeat some night very soon,”

Tears trickled down Loki’s face. He could not stop them. The thought of going through this again- it was unbearable. And yet his need grew no less.

“I tell you what Lokes, you get a free one because you played a good game. Sapphire?”

The Pillow Servant who had smiled at him darted forward.

“Yes, Grandmaster?”

“Give our pet God here what he needs. But hey, Lokes!” The Grandmaster snapped his fingers. “Eye contact. I like eye contact.”

It was obvious what the Grandmaster was doing. By forcing Loki to look into his eyes he was attempting to condition his brain and body to associate himself with relief and pleasure. Training him like a... _a pet._ And he wasn’t even going to touch Loki’s body himself- as if Loki was so far beneath him he hadn’t earned even that reward.

Loki however was too exhausted and turned on to fight it. He kept his eyes locked on the Grandmaster’s as Sapphire’s cool fingers finally closed around his pulsing cock. She pulled him in long, delicious strokes, her thumb slicking over the swollen head so that he moaned. It took him seconds to reach his pinnacle, and the orgasm was every bit as shattering as it had promised to be, rolling out of him like a tidal wave, seeming to come from the swollen, abused fullness of his hole, and his spurting cockhead all at once.

“Eyes on me,” murmured the Grandmaster, and Loki obeyed, feeling every bit of the pitiful submissive gratitude he’d wanted to avoid.

The Grandmaster smiled. “Worth waiting for? _I_ thought so.” He turned to Topaz. “Unlock him. Bring him to Opal’s old room. Get him something to eat, a hot bath. Whatever he likes.” He beamed at Loki. “We need him in fighting shape if we’re going to continue his education. Well done, Lokes. You live to play another day.”


	4. The Pet God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki finally gets the one-on-one time with the Grandmaster that he sought, but once again finds himself submitting to the other man's will.

The silent Guard lead him to a room that was small, but comfortable- and best of all quiet. A large round window let in the day’s grubby light, illuminating a deep, steaming tub of water more like a small swimming basin than a bath, and even more welcoming to his exhausted mind a large, soft-looking bed.

“Bathe. Someone will bring you food shortly,” said the Guard with a bow.

A bow. _That’s something anyway._

The whole time the ship had been docking at the Grandmaster’s tower, Loki’s confused mind had been too addled to worry about anything, but as he’d been led- still collared and naked through the colorful hallways, the realisation hit him that if news of the outside world reached Sakaar, then so too might today’s events reach the ears of his enemies. How they’d delight in it, the haughty, superior God tortured for the amusement of a gaggle of fatuous party guests. How he’d begged for mercy. How he’d been used and violated for all to see.

 _It might be better if Hela does destroy Asgard, for how will I ever hold my head up there again?_ _When Thor finds out_... His brother would be beyond furious at the affront to Asgard. Might he not also be jealous, just a little bit? _Are you hoping that he is? Are you as hopelessly in love with him as all that?_

Loki pushed the thought away. It would do him no good here.

A serving man sponged the sweat and glitter off his aching body with a blissfully cool, damp cloth. The effects of the oil had worn off by now, to be replaced with a raw, painful sensation as his abused nerve endings screamed at him. His limbs were cramped and painful from his hours in bondage, and the servant had to help him to climb into the tub. 

The hot water was sweet and soothing on his abused body, and the warmth so pleasant that if it hadn’t been for the growing discomfort of his bruised skin where so many strangers' hands had tormented him, he might have slipped off to sleep.

In fact, he was floating, half-dozing when the door opened again. The Servant had reappeared, holding a flagon of water and a plate, upon which was some bread and fruit and a golden sliver of cheese. Loki had not realised how hungry he was until he saw it, and although he would have liked to have pretended lofty disinterest he could not help but sitting up in the tub.

The Servant cleared his throat, nervously. “Presenting the Grandmaster of Sakaar.”

Loki froze. Was the man to begin his torments again so soon? Loki had nothing left- no will to resist, no energy to flirt and flatter. Even at his lowest ebb he usually had something, but now he was pitifully vulnerable, and felt it.

The Grandmaster was wearing fresh clothing- a robe of red and gold which suited his dark coloring. Even now, Loki had to admit that he was a handsome man who would have caught his interest in any setting- not just for his good looks but his charm. It ought to have been impossible to find charm in a man who had tormented one as Loki had been tonight, and yet, fearful as he was, he had to admit that there was something about the Grandmaster that drew all your attention to him.. 

“Water feel good?”

Loki could only nod. He did not trust his voice to hold steady.

“Here, let me,” the Grandmaster took the plate from the Serving man, who bowed, set down his flagon and scuttled from the room as though relieved to be dismissed. Loki watched as the Grandmaster ambled towards him, resisting the urge to sink below the surface of the water.

“Hungry?” asked the Grandmaster, perching on the edge of the tub.

_Tell him no. Tell him you’d rather choke than eat any food he provides._

But the scent of the fresh bread and the fruit, tangy and sweet made him close his eyes with need.

“Yes.”

“Yes...?” The Grandmaster raised his eyebrows and pointed at himself.

“Yes, Grandmaster.”

The Grandmaster chuckled. “I like a fast learner. Here.”

He broke off a piece of bread and held it out over the steaming surface of the water to Loki, who lifted a hand to accept it.

“Uh-uh. No hands.”

Loki flushed. Was he really expecting that Loki of Asgard would eat from his hand like a... _A Pet._

_I’ve never had a pet God before._

Could it really be more humiliating than anything else he’d done tonight? If he soured things now, it would all have been for nothing. If, however, he continued to play the Grandmaster’s game, he might be able to salvage _something_ , if not his pride.

The Grandmaster’s nails were painted bright blue and thick dark hair furred the back of his wrist. The contrast excited Loki somehow, and it was that excitement more than the twinge of shame he felt to bow his head and eat from the Sakaarian’s fingers that distressed him.

“Good, you had quite a workout tonight, Lokes. I thought you’d be hungry.”

Loki knew what he was waiting for and felt another painful fracture in his pride. 

“Thank you, Grandmaster. For thinking of me.”

The Grandmaster picked up a piece of the fruit which was bright red and dripped with juice, running it teasingly over Loki’s lips. “You want it?” 

_No. I want nothing from you._

“Please, Grandmaster.” 

For what choice did he have but allow the Grandmaster to push the fruit into his mouth? It was delicious and he felt his body begin to respond to it right away, replenishing itself after the long hours of need.

The Grandmaster held up his dripping fingers, and hating himself for doing it, Loki leaned forward to lick them clean.

He was fed the whole of the meal in this way- and the worst part of it was that it tasted so good and the gentleness of the Grandmaster’s voice after so many hours of cruelty was so soothing that he found himself filled with yet again with a worrisome warm feeling of submission and gratitude that was entirely alien to his prideful nature.

Here was the Grandmaster yet again conditioning him to behave like a whipped dog, grateful for the gentle touch of his master’s hand, but although in his mind he knew full-well he was being manipulated his treacherous body responded to the man’s tricks. 

He _was_ grateful for the food, and when the plate was empty and the Grandmaster reached out to stroke the side of his face Loki found himself closing his eyes and enjoying the sensation.

“I bet everything hurts about now,” the Grandmaster said.

Loki nodded. The bath had worked wonders on his knotted muscles, but the areas where the oil had been applied were beginning to burn like they’d been scoured with white-hot sand.

“Get out of the tub and dry yourself off,” said the Grandmaster, abruptly. He rose from his perch and walked across the room to seat himself in a large gold chair. 

Loki ought to have been well beyond his shame at being naked in front of this man, and yet he still could not raise his eyes as he stepped out of the tub and dried his body with the cloud-soft towel, wincing as it chafed his tender spots.

The Grandmaster smiled. “Come and sit on my lap. Facing me- I like to see you. You pull the most wonderful faces, Lokes. You’re just a _treat_ to watch.”

The thought of the Grandmaster’s enjoyment observing his evening in the chair did nothing for his pride, nor did straddling the man’s lap, the smooth gold fabric of his robes beneath Loki’s thighs. He could feel that the Grandmaster was growing hard beneath his regalia as his eyes ran slowly up and down Loki’s nude body. 

Would he want to take Loki now? He didn’t know if he could stand it. The pain in his skin continued to increase and his cock and swollen well-used hole hurt nearly as much as his belly and the soles of his feet which had received the most attention.

“You look worried, Lokes.”

“No, Grandmaster. I merely await your pleasure.”

“Do you now? Well that’s good to hear. I know you’re hurting right now, but you’re just going to let me use you anyway? That warms the heart. Not to mention the rest of me,” he chuckled and Loki’s heart sank. He’d have to ride out the pain as he had done the pleasure. Put aside his exhaustion and weakness and face this like a warrior.

He jumped as the door opened and the Servant reappeared, carrying a small dish that he set on the arm of the chair. The man did not seem surprised to see the God kneeling naked astride the Grandmaster’s lap- Loki supposed that of all the things to happen in these rooms this was far from the strangest.

He eyed the dish of oil suspiciously. It looked different from the first oil- milky instead of clear. Would it increase his discomfort? Did the Grandmaster wish to hear him beg? Well he needed no tricks for that. The thought of anything touching his body made him want to weep. When the Grandmaster’s fingers ran lightly up his ribs he hissed in pain.

“That’s the trouble with the oil,” said the Grandmaster. “You pay back double in pain what you get in pleasure. Kind of true of a lot of things.” He tapped Loki’s lips.

Loki shivered. He felt very close to breaking. He watched as the Grandmaster dipped his fingertips into the dish. “Lift up your arms, put your hands at the back of your head.”

Loki did as he was ordered. He felt so defeated that he had no resistance left to offer.

“Let’s start here.” The Grandmaster extended a finger and traced it over the swollen nub of Loki’s left nipple.

The relief was instant and incredible. All of the burning pain vanished as the oil was stroked into his sensitive skin and Loki gasped.

“Feel good? Kind of an antidote I guess.” The Grandmaster frowned. “What? You think I’d just leave you to suffer? Well it’s a fair guess, you do look so _cute_ suffering, but I want you to get some sleep.”

Loki shivered as the Grandmaster coaxed the oil into his second nipple and then over his stinging ribs and the sensitive flesh of his belly. A great rush of endorphins raced through him as the burning pain subsided into blissful peace. It felt better even than his long-delayed orgasm had. The Grandmaster’s hands were so gentle as they obliterated the pain from his body inch by inch.

_And who was it who made you hurt so to begin with? It’s another one of his tricks._

And yet once again the rational calculating part of his mind held no sway here. Yet again his exhausted and defeated body was caught up in a wave of gratitude, and something that was almost love. As the Grandmaster leaned forward to begin to soothe the oil into his soles their faces were brought close together. Loki found that he couldn’t quite meet those dark, amused eyes, and yet could not stop looking either. The face was lined but far from ancient, and the lips were lush- a hedonist’s mouth.

“What do you want, Lokes?” asked the Grandmaster softly.

Loki replied without thinking. “To kiss you, Grandmaster.”

The Grandmaster grinned, and put a hand on Loki’s shoulder pulling him back down with him so that they half lay in the chair, Loki atop the Grandmaster, feeling almost that he was melting into him, tilting his head to kiss the clever, cruel mouth. The Grandmaster sucked on Loki’s lips and tongue making him shiver and kiss him all the more ardently.

“Aren’t you an affectionate little thing?”

Loki could not speak. He was too confused, the part of himself that craved only to triumph was at war with-and losing to- the part of himself that longed for the comfort and kindness of this powerful man. How easy it would be to just submit. To turn off his brain for once. To allow himself the indulgence.

_A part of you will die if you do that._

It was true, but he found that he was too overwhelmed with bliss to care. The feeling of the Grandmaster’s body- there was lean muscle beneath those silken robes, and the scent of him- warm liked spiced honey, but somehow intoxicatingly masculine filled him with a desire to submit himself that he’d felt with no other but Thor.

He kissed the Grandmaster’s neck, and then moved lower to bury his face in the triangle of dark hair at the low collar of his robes. 

He loved to kiss Thor in just the same spot- when he’d allow it. Kisses made his Brother far more uncomfortable than actual sex did- in fact he turned his head away if Loki tried to kiss his mouth. It had always baffled him, but perhaps now he understood. Worshipping the Grandmaster’s body as he did now felt like a far more intimate surrender than being filled and teased in front of that roomful of Guests. In fact his cock was growing hard again, and he winced at the sensation of it.

The Grandmaster laughed. “Don’t be uh, _too_ eager. We need to finish off here. Sit up again.” 

Loki did as he was told, watching with wide eyes as the Grandmaster slicked his palms. When his gentle hands began to stroke Loki’s cock the God sighed, suddenly, absurdly on the edge of another orgasm almost at once. The long fingers ran delicately over his sack, lifting and caressing, trailed up and down his shaft until he began to move his hips in spite of himself.

“Look at you, all worked up and overexcited,” aid the Grandmaster, shaking his head. “No more for you tonight. I need you to hold that thought, Lokes.”

And so Loki was forced to sit back, biting his lip while the Grandmaster took his time stroking the soothing balm into his swollen cock, his thumbs teasing the sensitive underside of his rigid erection and his palm dragging across the already-leaking head over and over until Loki felt he might pass out from pleasure. The dissolution of the pain made him all the more eager, and the growing swell of the Grandmaster’s own cock beneath him did not help.

“Good,” said the Grandmaster, finally. “Lie over my lap, on your front. Still one spot to go. I think you’ll like this one, Lokes.”

Loki flushed as he realised what the Grandmaster meant. He remembered Galder’s fingers sliding into him so many hours ago. That had felt almost like a tribute being paid by a servant to spoiled Prince- a dynamic he was well used to, but he suspected this would feel very different. _Like an owner taking possession of every part of his new toy._

At least bent over the Grandmaster’s lap like this he could hide his face, but that was the only consolation the undignified position offered. 

His aching cock rubbed enticingly against the Grandmaster’s thigh and he shivered with need as the man’s hand ran over his buttocks stroking and petting and lightly pinching, then parting them wide so that his fingers might tease at the puffy knot of Loki’s hole.

The feeling of the soothing balm on the flesh that had been tormented and stretched so relentlessly was almost orgasmic in and of itself, and when two of the Grandmaster’s fingers pushed gently inside him to circle and to rub, toying with the swollen bud of his prostate Loki felt himself begin to let go once more. He only stopped his orgasm by biting down on his own hand.

“Wow, you Asgardians really do keep going and going,” said the Grandmaster. “I could take you right now and you’d just love every second of it, wouldn’t you?”  
“Please,” said Loki, hating himself for begging for it, yet unable to prevent himself. “ _Please_ take me.”

He heard the Grandmaster laugh. “I can’t fault you for asking, _especially_ so politely, but I told you I wanted you to sleep. I don’t like to hear my pets begging unless I _tell_ them to beg me. It kinda makes it sound like you have a choice in anything, and that’s just not true, Lokes.”

“Yes, Grandmaster. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, don’t apologise! See, this means I get to punish you, which- Kinda my favorite thing!”

Loki swallowed.

“We’ll keep it simple, Lokes since you had a kinda, uh, _complicated_ night already.”

Loki felt the Grandmaster’s fingers withdraw from his hole, then a hand was placed firmly on the small of his back.

“No squirming now.”

Loki had no time to wonder what was about to happen to him- the Grandmaster’s free hand came down on his bare backside with a sharp slap that echoed round the room. Loki winced and tried his best to obey the Grandmaster’s order to be still as the hand came down again and again, warming his skin. The punishment was not truly painful, but to be bent over this man’s knee and spanked like a disobedient child was a new humiliation, and he felt doubly humbled when the servant returned to fetch the dish of oil. His eyes met Loki’s briefly. The look was a mix of sympathy and amusement, and to Loki’s shame, being seen in such a position by another man only made him harder.

“Huh,” said the Grandmaster shifting his legs against Loki’s swelling shaft, “Feels like maybe you’re enjoying this a little too much. Do all the Gods of Asburg like to be spanked like naughty little pets, or just you?”

Loki made a muffled whimpering noise as the spanking continued. If they _ever_ heard of this back on Asgard. If _Thor_ ever heard! 

_Do all the Gods of Asgard like to be spanked?_ An image of Thor bent over the Grandmaster’s lap as he was, those perfectly round buttocks bare and helpless as the Thunder God was punished assaulted his mind. Or _himself_ bent over his Brother’s lap, being punished by him. Thor’s great strength raising red palm-shaped welts from his skin as he begged him for mercy. The vision was too much.

“Oh _Norns_ ,” he moaned, but even as the orgasm swelled within him, the Grandmaster's hand stopped, and he found himself lifted gently but firmly away by the serving man.

Grandmaster looked up at him. “Enthusiasm! I like it! But get some sleep, Lokes. Big evening ahead of you.”

He rose in a whispering of robes and was gone from the room before Loki had time to say anything. Half-relieved, half disappointed, Loki flopped back onto the bed, exhausted, cock softening by degrees but the ball of need still hot within him.

The serving man moved to pull a vast curtain over the window, dimming the room. 

“You’re to wear this to sleep in.” 

The man sounded apologetic as he held up the shiny object as if anticipating an objection, but Loki didn’t have it in him to argue, even when the Servant bent over the bed and gently but firmly pushed his legs apart again.

In his hand he held an odd metal cage that he closed around Loki’s cock, locking it in place.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s his order,” said the serving man. “To stop you ah...having your pleasure in his absence.” He patted Loki’s shoulder. “We all went through it. It’s hardest at first but once you accept it, it's’ easy enough.”

“You served him too, in this way?”

The man nodded. “For six whole days. He tires of his pets quickly, but some of us are lucky enough to be allowed to stay on here afterwards and serve at his Pillow when he desires.”

The man finished his work and slipped from the room, leaving Loki with something new to think about. Six days was surely survivable. He’d done one already. Six days was nothing. 

Almost _too_ little. 

What a thought to have! It wasn’t as though he was enjoying this. Any pleasure he’d felt had been tricked out of him by the Grandmaster. He certainly would not have chosen this way to ingratiate himself with the wretched man.

He ran his fingers over the metal cage around his cock, but there was no way whatsoever to touch the aching shaft itself. How was he supposed to sleep in this state?

Furious, he rolled beneath the blankets determined to stay awake- he’d been robbed of any other act of rebellion, and the defiant frown still creased his forehead as he fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.


	5. Door number Three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki is determined to impress the Grandmaster, but as the Sakaarian begins to train his new pet he discovers something Loki would much rather be kept a secret.

Loki was awakened some time after sunset by the sound of the serving man placing a fresh plate of food at the side of his bed. He ate hungrily and polished off a pitcher of ice-cold water.

He felt _better._ Ready to put the events of the previous day behind him- or at least respin them into something he could live with. The strange metal cage still cupped his privates, but he was lounging in a fine bed in the Grandmaster’s tower, with a servant hurrying to refill his glass and replenish his plate.

Perhaps his plan hadn’t worked out in quite the way he’d intended, but it _had_ worked.

“Clothes for you,” said the serving man, with a bow. “The Grandmaster has asked that I take you to the Atrium when you’re ready.”

Loki nodded as haughtily as he could manage, trying to hide his relief that he wasn’t going to be forced to walk through the corridors naked. Yesterday it had been the least of the degradations he’d suffered, but it seemed that he’d regained a little of his pride as he slept.

The clothing surprised him- green and black silk and leather in Asgardian style- almost exactly what he would have woven for himself from spellstuff if he’d had access to his powers. To his disgust the ornate silver collar remained in place around his neck.

Regarding himself in the mirror it was almost possible to believe that the events of the previous evening had not happened- that he hadn’t been tormented to the point of begging for mercy as that abominable contraption filled him again and again for all to see.

_Perhaps I’ll be able to face the Grandmaster with a little more guile today._

But the thought of the man- his amused eyes and demanding hands- got his cock twitching in its cage. He’d been pushed to the edge of release at the Grandmaster’s pleasure and then left wanting, and however determined his rational self might be to rebel against the Grandmaster’s conditioning, he could not help but admit that his body was already responding to the man’s tricks. 

The Atrium was a large, airy room near the top of the Tower. Loki paused in the doorway trying to gather himself, for the space was filled with people. Their outlandishly arranged hair framed smiling, indolent faces, and the fine brightly-colored clothing barely covered sleek pampered bodies. On Asgard such people would be looked down upon as weak. Pomp and finery was acceptable on Asgard, but the most beautiful of boys and elegant of girls still knew how to pick up a sword or an axe and fight. Loki had an uneasy relationship with his status as an Asgardian. Back home he never would have called himself such, but here, so far away from the warrior culture he had to admit that he’d absorbed some of Odin’s values whether he wanted them or not. 

Adding to his distaste for the scene was the fact that many of these people were horribly familiar. The last time he had been among this crowd he’d been bound and naked, suffering at their hands. Could he go among them now and suffer their derision anew? This must be some fresh torment devised by the Grandmaster- to dress him up as his former Princely self to amuse those who had seen him humbled- but as heads turned towards him, Loki did not hear the laughter and whispers he’d expected. 

The glances he received seemed almost excited. _Admiring_. 

Now a man came forward. His blue robes perfectly matched the blue of his eyes, and complimented his dark skin and hair. Loki recognised him at once as a member of the trio who had initiated his torture the evening before. He didn’t suppose he’d ever forget that face, even if the faces of those who had come later had blurred into confusion. 

“Loki! Oh, I’m glad Grandmaster has allowed us to see you again before he tucks you away for the night. Would you like a drink? This Azure is rather good.” The man beckoned for a servant who hurried over with a goblet.

Loki did not know what to make of this sudden display of friendliness- if not deference, but allowed the man to lead him over to a low sofa where the second man and the woman from last night were also seated.

The woman beamed at him. “How well you look in all that leather! See how jealous Panoma over there is that you’re talking with us and not her?”

Loki examined her words for a sign of mockery, but found none.

“I’m Daselle, and this is Chanse who is wildly in love with you...”

“Daselle!” spluttered the dark-haired man.

“And this is Rool. Do you remember us from last night? I told Chanse we ought to get in first while there was still a chance you would.”

“I remember you,” said Loki, as blandly as he could manage. He took a sip of his drink- which proved to be as good as the man Chanse had promised in spite of its violent blue color. 

He was beyond confused. These people had seen him brought as low as a man could be. Why were they so excited to see him? Why did they act like they’d scored some great social triumph by luring him to their sofa? On Asgard anyone who’d been humiliated publicly as he had would be scorned wherever he went. Warriors would turn away in disgust from a man who’d been made a plaything for the entire court.

_Why question it? You are not on Asgard. Their ways are not Asgard’s ways. Perhaps here they’ll actually...appreciate you._

To be loved- not as Thor’s Brother, or Odin’s son was something Loki craved so badly that even to allow himself to hope for it was too dangerous for him to countenance. He knew that he could bend others to his iron will through trickery and cunning, but genuine admiration- especially for his secret weakness- the one he’d never admit even to himself, this was something that unsettled him. _If only Thor loved you for yielding to him, instead of being so shamed by the desires we share._

Chanse had seated himself next to Loki on the sofa.

“We were all very impressed by your performance last night. I’ve never seen anything like it in all my days here. Most don’t last an hour, let alone a whole evening. I’ve never heard of anyone manage it before.”

“What? Asked Loki, startled out of his confused thoughts.

“Oh yes! The Grandmaster doesn’t actually expect anyone to endure a whole _night_ in the chair! Usually his toys give up after half an hour and then he punishes them in some amusing way and if they’re interesting enough he beds them. But _you!_ All of Sakaar is talking about it! Well, all those who matter.”

“Really?” Loki did not know whether to feel pleased or outraged. “It was my understanding that I’d be disintegrated if I lost my wager.”

Rool shook his head. “Of course not, that would be no fun at all!”

“Oh Loki,” said Daselle. “The Grandmaster wouldn’t waste anyone as lovely as you.”

She leaned close to him, her shimmering silver-painted lips almost brushing his own.

“Do say you’ll come to bed with us when he’s done with you? I’ve never lain with a God before. And Chanse here will pine away if you say no.”

“ _Daselle!_ ”

* * *

The next hour was a pleasant one for Loki. Everyone in the room was eager to flirt and flatter and he found himself surrounded by a crowd all of them laughing at his jokes, fetching him drinks, hanging onto every word of his stories. It was like his time as Odin again- only far better because this time he was not burdened with his ponderous disguise.

When the Grandmaster finally arrived, Loki was reclined on the sofa, with his head in Chanse’s lap (the man might be a sadistic creature, but he gave an excellent scalp massage) and a crowd of Sakaarians laughing at his (perhaps slightly embellished) retelling of his adventures on Midgard.

“Looks like everyone’s getting along.”

The sound of the Grandmaster’s voice sent a thrill of trepidation through Loki, and to his annoyance a shiver of arousal. Now that it seemed his performance had been admirable and not disgraceful to these people, the memories of it stirred him in an entirely different way.

The Grandmaster sauntered into the room, taking a seat on a vast red and gold pillow. His retinue fluttered around him offering drinks, smiles and whispers, but his clever eyes were fixed on Loki who felt pierced by the need and resentment battling within him. The Grandmaster crooked a finger, beckoning.

“Have fun,” Chanse whispered. “Save some for me.”

Loki approached the Grandmaster’s cushion slowly, trying to gather himself.

“You fooled me last night,” Loki said when he finally stood before him.

“Did I? Me?”

“Yes. You said I’d be disintegrated if I lost your little wager.”

“We could disintegrate you now,” said Topaz flatly.

The Grandmaster rolled his eyes, “Sheesh, come on guys. You’re kind of ruining my vibe here. Why would I disintegrate you Lokes? Just when we’re starting to understand each other. Come here.”   
He patted his knee. “Sit.”

Loki considered. Playing the Grandmaster’s games had worked out for him so far- more or less. And what was more, he found that he _wanted_ the Grandmaster’s touch. He could feel how desperately the men and women here longed to gain the powerful man’s attention, and to be the sole object of his focus was flattering whether he wanted to be flattered or not. There was also the small matter of his inflamed libido, the embers of which had been fanned further by the flirtations of the Sakaarians. It occurred to him that the Grandmaster had not yet taken him. Some men did not find pleasure that way, preferring to watch. 

_Do you hope that he is such a man_?

Perhaps.

_Liar._

As he sank gracefully onto the Grandmaster’s lap, the scent and the warmth of his body reminded Loki of the more intimate conclusion of the evening back in the room. The Grandmaster’s hands soothing his tender flesh, the hot, desperate feeling of his erection pressed against the Grandmaster’s thigh as the man’s cool fingers slid inside Loki’s hole, spreading him wide to reveal his most intimate parts for the Grandmaster’s examination of his newest conquest. The way he’d held Loki in place and punished him, spanking his bare buttocks like a Tutor punishing a willful youth. 

And had Loki resented him in that moment? No. He had begged him for the relief he had been denied- the relief that still hadn’t come. 

Loki’s cock was painfully hard again, prevented from reaching its full length by the cunning metal cage, and he squirmed uncomfortably as the Grandmaster wrapped an arm around his waist to pull him close so that the two of them lay in a half-embrace on the heavenly soft cushion which was more like a small cloud than the stiff, torturously ornate thrones of Asgard. 

When the Grandmaster put a finger beneath his chin and tilted his head towards him to claim his mouth Loki returned his kiss with an enthusiasm that surprised him, letting the Grandmaster’s tongue part his lips, taste every part of his mouth.

Knowing that he was the object of desire and envy of everyone in the room was exactly the balm his battered ego needed, and even when the Grandmaster hooked a finger into the collar round his neck, giving it a small tug as though to remind him of his status, he found he did not mind it- in fact the feeling sent a shiver through him that made his breathing falter.

The Grandmaster broke away finally to smile at him, apparently pleased with his performance.

“See? Isn’t that better than arguing about who fooled who?”

Loki nodded. “Yes, Grandmaster.” He had planned on using his wits today- to trick the Grandmaster into thinking he was the submissive, pleading slave of the previous night, but now that it came down to it no trickery was needed. It bewildered him, and should have angered him, but all he could think of was the throbbing of his tormented cock and his need to please this man.

“And did you sleep well?”

“Yes, Grandmaster, thank you.”

“My little present didn’t bother you?” His hand moved between Loki’s legs to grip the metal cage.

“Ah, no Grandmaster,” Loki gasped.

“Good. I think we can lose it now though, don’t you?”

Loki nodded. He was aware that the conversation in the room had faded once more and that people were watching the two of them, perhaps anticipating another show. One he was determined to give to them if that was what the Grandmaster required.

He tried not to mind it as the Grandmaster’s hands worked to untie the fastenings of his britches, pulling the fabric aside, lifting Loki’s caged cock free. A touch was all it took to release the device, and now the Grandmaster’s fingers stroked the swollen length of his bared prick, once, twice, and he just barely stopped himself whimpering when the ceased.

“Better?”

Loki nodded. 

“I think we can lose some of this too,” he said, plucking at Loki’s shirt. Almost a once a pair of servants were there, stripping him to the waist with gentle hands, carrying the clothing away reverently.

The Grandmaster pushed Loki onto his back and propped himself up on one elbow. The cunning eyes moved slowly over Loki’s body and he found himself almost trembling in anticipation of his touch.

How different from Thor, who took what he wanted in the heat of his passion. That was exciting to Loki too, but this was something new. His other anonymous lovers had worshiped his body, but none of them had treated him this way- as a precious object to be owned and admired. 

If it hadn’t been for the Grandmaster’s lesson of the previous night he might almost have begged to have the man’s hands on him, but the waiting was its own sort of sweetness.

When the Grandmaster finally touched him- the barest whisper of contact between his finger tip and Loki’s nipple, Loki sighed and the Grandmaster smiled.

“Aren’t you the cutest thing? I think we’re going to have some fun tonight.”

He raised his voice. “Entertainments! I mean, _I’m_ pretty entertained already, but let’s go for it.”

The lights in the room dimmed, and a troupe of musicians entered to set up their instruments. The music was not to Loki’s taste, but he did not think that he’d have been able to concentrate even if it had been. His cock still thrust out from his britches for all the room to see, but the Grandmaster made no attempt to touch it.

Instead he began to watch the entertainments- a group of dancing girls, an acrobat, more of the peculiar music. Throughout all of this his hand played idly with Loki’s nipples, rubbing, pinching softly, teasing them into hard little nubs of pleasure. Already his prick was beginning to leak and the man had barely touched him.

The Grandmaster’s robes were open almost to his navel and Loki could not tear his eyes away from his chest, his tawny skin covered with a thick mat of hair, his own nipples large and dark.

When Loki slid a tentative hand into his robes to touch, the Grandmaster smiled.

“Mmmm, good boy.”

He ought to have bridled at the patronising tone, but instead it excited him. He did not even mind when the Grandmaster stopped touching him, instead he leaned into the man’s body, bending to press his face into his chest. The Grandmaster’s skin was warm and exciting and smelled strongly of the sweet musk of the scent he wore. Loki kissed first one nipple, then the other, then began to use his tongue, sucking and licking.

The Grandmaster made a pleased rumbling noise that was almost a purr. Encouraged Loki began kissed his neck, and then trailed his kisses back down the bare chest again. He was powerfully excited, his mind a blur of confused images. The Grandmaster on one hand, dangerous and exciting, but on the other the closeness of his current predicament to the fantasy he’d always treasured of his Brother.

_Thor, the King of Asgard sitting on his throne, and Loki making love to him there, their secret passion revealed before the whole of the Kingdom. Sitting astride his Brother’s lap, the mighty cock impaling him, Thor’s hand on his own prick. Being owned by him. Mastered by him._

Perhaps because he was thinking of Thor the last of his reticence vanished and he reached for the bulge of the Grandmaster’s cock through the thick silk of his robe. It was pleasingly hard, and stiffened more as Loki’s hand moved against it.

The man made a little noise, as if surprised. “You’re a bold one.”

“I’m a God. Do you not like it?”

“Uh, I think you can tell I like it. I’d like it more if you were on your knees using that lovely mouth for something other than boasting.”

Changing position meant catching a glimpse of the rest of the room. The men and women petted and kissed on their own sofas and cushions, but as it had been last night, all eyes were on him. Could he keep the Grandmaster’s attention? Would the rising star lose his luster?

_They don’t call me silvertongue for nothing._

It chafed at him to kneel to the Grandmaster, but the proud prince in him was losing once more to the wanton who craved more than anything to be taken by a man powerful enough to take him. There were few enough men in the galaxy, and as much as he hated sinking to his knees, bowing his head, he hoped that the Grandmaster would prove to be such a man and not all games and artifice with nothing beyond it.

_By ‘nothing beyond it,’ say what you mean: you want him to fuck you._

His back prickled as though he could actually feel the intensity of the eyes upon him, but as he drew the Grandmaster’s cock out of his robes his focus narrowed to the task before him.

What a task it was! Of course he was smaller than Thor, but the Grandmaster’s cock was an object worthy of worship nonetheless, thick and heavy, rising out of a tangled dark nest of hair that Loki wasted no time burying his nose in as he sucked the Grandmaster’s length into his skilled mouth.

“Oh, wow, now that’s...that’s something.”

Loki would have smiled if smiling were possible. 

“Loki...”

Loki noted the use of his true name, but did not stop. So the Grandmaster meant to silence him? Well two could play at that game.

The next time the Grandmaster began to speak, Loki sucked harder, deeper, flickering his tongue on the underside of the swollen cock, eyes closing in satisfaction as the words were lost in a moan. He wanted to prove to this man that he was no anonymous plaything to be used and cast aside. If the man wanted to keep him as a pet, he’d be the best pet he’d ever owned. He’d be remembered.

The Grandmaster’s fingers closed in Loki’s hair- not the calm calculating seduction of earlier, but a desperate grab, to push his head down further.

Loki let himself be pushed, taking the Grandmaster deep into his throat. He could taste the spend pouring from the Grandmaster’s cock and knew that his orgasm was close. He concentrated on slowing his breathing readying himself to swallow what the Grandmaster had to give, but all at once the Grandmaster was pulling his head back, his cock sliding out of Loki’s mouth.

Loki found himself looking up into the clever face- no longer quite so sure of itself as it had been.

“Do they all suck like that on Asgard?” He was breathing heavily.

“Only me, Grandmaster,” said Loki. “I’d have even better tricks available without this collar.”

“I’m sure you would. Wow, Loki, I had high expectations. But _you_. You just surpassed them.” He shook his head. “I think it’s time we lost the spares, don’t you?”

He snapped his fingers. “Up! Take us up.”

A panel in the ceiling above them slid open, and to Loki’s surprise the area of floor they were on began to rise.

“What’s happening?”

The Grandmaster laughed. “Do you like it? Sometimes I just need to be in my chambers in a hurry. And you’ve got me in a hurry, Lokes.”

The sound of the music dwindled and then was cut off entirely as the platform rose up into the room above them.

It was another large, airy space with glittering gilt walls and blue silk hangings. A vast bed with sheets of blue and scarlet stood at the center of the room, and the Grandmaster rose, pulling him to his feet to lead him towards it.

“Lose the rest of your clothes. Pretty as you look all dressed up like a big scary God of...whatever you’re a God of, I like the natural look better.”

Loki found it hard to concentrate- his eyes remained fixed on the thick cock that jutted from the Grandmaster’s now-open robes. How badly he wanted it inside him. He found himself wishing that he’d been wearing similar garments- the tight buckles and belts of his britches seemed far too complicated.

Soon he stood before the Grandmaster naked except for the hateful silver collar.

“Good. Better. Perfect!” Now you’re going to want to get on the bed, on your belly. Like a good little pet.”

Loki felt a thrill of mortification and desire at these words, yet he obeyed nevertheless. He sank a good three inches into the surface of the bed, which was every bit as soft and comfortable as it looked. 

“Lift your hips up.” The Grandmaster’s hand patted his buttocks and Loki wriggled to lift his ass in the air, hating the humiliating position, loving it. A smooth satin bolster was pushed beneath is hips, his cock nestled into the cool slippery fabric. 

The Grandmaster moved to the head of the bed, and Loki heard the delicate silvery sound of metal. Then the Grandmaster’s hand was gripping his collar, clipping a short length of chain to it, the other end of which was attached to the bedhead. Now that he looked around him-as best as his constricted position would allow- he could see all sorts of straps and chains and eyeholes built into the bed. The Grandmaster would be able to arrange his victims in any way he chose. _Leashed like a dog._

And yet he found that the position excited him. Did it mean that the Grandmaster would fuck him? Take the hole that had only ever belonged to Thor? 

Now Loki’s hands were being pulled behind his back, and cuffed there with flexible bands. Unable to support himself, Loki’s knees slid helplessly outward on the slippery silk, spreading his thighs wide, the added weight crushing his cock most deliciously into the soft bolster beneath it.

“Now that’s a picture.” 

The Grandmaster stood somewhere to his left. Loki could hear him moving around the room but could not see him. He felt his face flush as he contemplated the view the Grandmaster must have of him. His ass up in the air as though begging to be used, his buttocks parted to reveal the tight pucker of his hole, no doubt pink and swollen from the stretching he had endured last night, the little knot still exquisitely sensitive. His sack pushed backwards to bulge helplessly between his legs. Hands bound tightly in the crook of his back, the collar around his neck. A more perfect picture of submission would have been impossible to conceive.

_And you ought to hate it. Yet don’t._

In fact he felt almost ready to spend, the woozy, powerful feeling of a building orgasm already beating through his loins in time with his heart. 

If only Thor would take him this way! Not just the hurried rutting in stolen moments, but to strip him and bind him. To enjoy him. To take what Loki wanted so desperately to yield. He’d been too afraid to ask for it. With the Grandmaster he need not fear, for he had no say in the matter, no inconvenient choices to be made. He need only obey.

Loki felt the bed sink as the Grandmaster seated himself on it, near to Loki’s head, but just far enough back that Loki couldn’t see him.

“So,” he said. “A concession. Since you were, uh, _such_ a good pet just now I’m going to let you pick.”

The question had barely formed on Loki’s lips when the Grandmaster’s hand came into view, setting three objects down where he could see them. Loki’s mouth fell open at the sight of them. He knew of such toys, of course! But never had he imagined that one might be used on him. The column of spheres of the chair last night seemed different somehow to these three outlandish phalluses. There had been no human mind behind the chair, least of all his, but now he was expected to choose the means of his violation and would have no choice but to submit to its use on him at the hands of the Grandmaster. 

It was a much more intimate surrender than the public humiliation of last night, and was perhaps more mortifying because of it.

The phallus on the left was no larger than an ordinary prick, but was a displeasing shade of orange, and the surface covered with large nubs like boils. He could imagine how it would torment his insides, toying with his hole and teasing his prostate. The middle phallus was a lurid green like a poisonous mushroom, and flickered with some sort of energy. When the Grandmaster tapped it against his nose he felt a pulse of tingling, not quite painful, but he could imagine that the feeling against his most sensitive parts would make him squirm abominably.

The third was simply enormous. No tricks, no novelties, it was merely a vast shaft, over a foot long and tremendously thick. 

It was _Thor._

Norns knows if the maker of this monstrosity had used a real-life model. It dizzied him to think of two cocks as perfect as his Brother’s existing in the multiverse, but this one was his Brother to life (albeit this one was not made from flesh).

“So,” said the Grandmaster. “Which one do you want?”

“Yours,” said Loki, truthfully.

The Grandmaster’s hand swatted his buttock. “They’re _all_ mine, Lokes. But I get what you mean. You haven’t quite earned mine yet. But you’re close.”

Loki jumped as he felt the Grandmaster’s fingers brush against his sack, stroking the sensitive skin. 

“Pick.”

“The one on the right.” The words tumbled out of his mouth and the Grandmaster laughed. “Wow, I would have figured you for a green zappy one kind of guy, but I guess even a trickster just wants things straight down the middle sometimes.”

The other two phalluses were whisked out of sight. The third one, the Grandmaster picked up and pressed to Loki’s lips.

“Lick. Show me you appreciate my generosity, huh?”

Loki closed his eyes, but stuck out his tongue and began to lick. It was cool not warm, and tasted clinical- not the hot salt taste of Thor, but the size of it put him in mind of his Brother’s member stretching his lips. How he wished Thor was here now. The Grandmaster filling his hole from behind while he worshiped Thor’s cock with his mouth.

“Good. I’m going to warm you up, but not too much. You picked this, remember.”

Loki felt the Grandmaster moving down the bed towards his exposed ass. Someone hurried across the room- a servant no doubt. He should have realised that even here in the Grandmaster’s sanctum there would be servants, but he was too aroused to mind who saw him trussed up ready for use. When the Grandmaster’s finger lightly traced his hole, slick with oil he moaned aloud, not caring who heard.

He was aware that he was moving his hips, rubbing his eager hole against the Grandmaster’s fingers which still circled and teased. The friction of his cock on the fabric beneath him pushed him closer and closer to his orgasm until he was dizzy with need.

“Now, do I have to tell you that you’re not coming?” said the Grandmaster. “Or did you figure that out on your own?”

Loki let out a whimper. He’d survived the wager just barely, but after the relentless inflaming of his lust and the long long hours of denial the need for release was so great now that he thought he’d simply go mad if he was denied any longer. 

“ _Please_ , Grandmaster!”

“Aw, you sound so pretty begging that I can’t be mad, even though I told you not to.”

“I’m sorry...”

“Hmmm, probably what you meant to say was ‘I’m sorry for being a disobedient pet, Grandmaster.’”

Loki bit his lip. Could he speak the humiliating words out loud?

_Can it possibly be any more shameful than pleading with him for your orgasm?_

“I’m sorry for being a...for being a disobedient pet, Grandmaster.”

The Grandmaster chuckled softly. “Good boy. You sound so sad, Lokes. I tell you what, I’ll let you come _if_ you can wait for my permission. Sound good?”

“Yes, Master...I mean _Grand_ master.” 

He was suddenly very glad that his face was buried in the silk coverlet.

The Grandmaster’s oiled fingertip slid against his anus, just barely nudging into the tight ring of quivering muscle.

“Don’t be bashful, Lokes. I kind of like that. _Master_. You just feel free to go on calling me that, huh?”

The finger slid a little deeper, pushing through Loki’s ring, entering him. 

“Oh Norns, _yes_...Master.”

_No one need ever know. It’s between me and him. And whoever his servants gossip to. Well, whatever they say about me I’ll deny it afterwards, and...Oh by the nine, I’m going to come._

For the Grandmaster had thrust a second finger deep within him, and was teasing and rubbing at the swollen button of his prostate, parting the two fingers to stretch him open. He felt the hard lip of some vessel on his skin and gasped as he felt the pouring of the warm oil directly into his gaped hole. Loki stopped himself from shooting his spend only by biting his lip until he tasted blood.

“Feel good, Pet?”

Loki could only moan in reply, but the Grandmaster didn’t seem to mind. He added a third finger and then a fourth, teasing Loki’s hole open, the sensation of his none-too-gentle exploration balanced on the knife-edge between pleasure and pain. The slick sounds of flesh sliding on flesh filled the room and made Loki tremble with mortification and need.

“There. I guess you’re as ready as I’m going to get you. You see the thing with you is you like it better when you think you don’t want it. So really, I’m just giving you what you want. Which is what you don’t want. Life’s weird, huh?”

Loki had no time to think of a reply to this, because the tip of the phallus was already pushing against his hole. He was thankful then for the hurried nature of his couplings with Thor because the Grandmaster made good on his promise. 

Loki felt himself stretched wide, wider, gaping to accept the massive girth of the phallus, he moaned as the head finally surged inside through the clenching ring of his sphincter, the shaft sliding in after it, deeper and deeper until he felt filled beyond his capacity to endure, and then came the slow dragging slide back out again, the ridge of the head dragging across his prostate so that he saw stars. As the stuff the phallus was made from warmed to his body temperature the similarity between it and Thor’s prick only grew greater. 

It was not the Grandmaster’s hand shoving the great length back into him now, but a thrust of his Brother’s slim hips. He wore _Thor’s_ collar, his hands were bound to please his King, he was being taken and fucked and Mastered by his Brother, fucked like a whore on the royal bed. 

The phallus withdrew almost the whole of its length and then it was slamming back into him, and he was bucking his hips, wanting it deeper, _harder_ . The collar around his neck cut off his air, and he couldn’t move, must take the deep and brutal fucking as the cock thrust into him over and over. _Thor’s_ cock. _He’s going to fuck you for as long as he wishes it and you have no say in the matter. He’s going to take your hole again and again, fill you with his seed, until you’re gushing with it._

“Oh Norns, please yes like that. Oh Thor. Oh _Please_.”

The motion of the Phallus slowed at once.

“Thor. Who’s Thor?”

Loki felt frozen. “I...”

“Thor, huh? I think I’ve heard of a Thor.”

If the Grandmaster had heard of Loki, he had _certainly_ heard of Thor. _Curse him!_

The man was chuckling again. “You really are too much fun, Loki. Just full of surprises. Well,” he gave the phallus another thrust “Among other things. Normally I don’t like it if my pets aren’t thinking of me when I play with them, but this. I gotta say, it’s kinda hot.”

Loki felt that if he blushed any harder he’d burn a hole in the bedsheets.

“So this is why you picked number three, huh? It reminded you of him. Is this how he fucks you? Or is it more of a kind of, uh, you wish he would, situation?”

“I...I won’t speak of my Brother.”

“Huh. So it _is_ that Thor. Tell you what, Lokes. You tell me the truth and I’ll let you come.”

“I can’t!”

“Well, that’s kind of a shame, because your collar there? It’s kind of locked into your biorhythms and I can just sort of...turn you off. Not you wanting it, of course, but I can turn of your ability, Lokes. And I can keep you like this for days. Weeks if I feel like it. Which, I have to admit, I kinda do. So you be a good boy and tell me all about Thor, and I’ll see about giving you what you want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Taika Waititi Thor is going to happen? MY BRAND! Is this relevant to this fic? Well yeah. I'm watching Ragnarok again in celebration and coming up with all sorts of ideas.


	6. A Confessional.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Grandmaster hears Loki's confession and offers him the reward he's been craving all along.

_I can keep you like this for hours, or days._

If Loki had doubted the Grandmaster, he did not doubt for long. The Grandmaster had now positioned himself to loll on the pillows near Loki’s head. He did not know who was behind him now- some faceless Servant no doubt. The Servants switched every so often and it was the only relief he was afforded- although the momentary withdrawal of the phallus only served to increase the sensation when the assault began anew.

The vast phallus that had caused his fatal slip of the tongue had been exchanged for the crackling green one, and more of the terrible oil that had undone him so previously had been slicked inside his hole. A stranger’s hand had snaked beneath him to rub more of the hateful substance into his cock. That had been hours ago- not quite days- at least Loki didn't think so. Sometimes the Grandmaster went away, yet he always returned.

He would have struggled, but his legs had been stretched out behind him and anchored to each corner of the bed, and with his hands bound at his back, and the collar leashed to the bedhead he could barely move. The scent of the oil- _Thor’s_ smell reminded him over and over of the foolish thing he’d said.

The Grandmaster sipped now from a gold goblet, his eyes never leaving Loki’s face. It made it worse that the man should bear witness to his every facial expression as the anonymous hands drove the phallus into his anus over and over, fast and hard for a while, then in slow, agonisingly pleasurable strokes, then short angled thrusts that hit his swollen prostate and made him cry out.

The oil worked the same devilish trick it had before- multiplying each sensation almost beyond what he could endure, and the strange energy that crackled from the green phallus served the same purpose. His body felt like a white hot nebula of desire from chest to thighs, with the aching rod of his cock and the abused hole the two most melting, needful spots.

He kept expecting the waves of pleasure to turn to pain, but the Grandmaster’s toys and tricks prevented it somehow.

The collar was part of it. The Grandmaster explained its use while Loki struggled against the remorseless penetration of his hole, still chasing the orgasm that crested again and again but never came.

“So are you impressed by this little gadget?” The Grandmaster tugged lightly on the neck chain, bringing the collar tight. 

“Like I said, it kinda gets in touch with your biorhythms. And your powers-your Seider, you guys call it, right? And it puts them to work- for _me_ . See, I can turn your pleasure up, or down- I’m not going to turn you down, don’t worry-And I can control all of your functions. I could turn off your speech or your ability to walk. I could make you obey my every word, uh, _more so_. Anything I felt like, really.”

He shook his arm where a simple silver band shone at his wrist. “I control it with this. It’s pretty simple. I think it, and it’s done. I mean everything on Sakaar works that way for me, but...”

He trailed off. Loki was panting, muttering curses under his breath. He was _so_ close. Trapped in that maddening delicious moment, just before his passion crested. He felt he could almost catch it...but even as he felt his body start to climax, the feeling was lost again and he slumped, defeated already feeling the wave building up in his loins anew.

He wasn’t sobbing yet, but he knew he soon would be.

“I feel like you aren’t listening to me,” the Grandmaster said. “Which- kind of a shame! Because you might like some of the tricks I have here, dangling from my sleeve. I mean, your total obedience- that’s fun. And like I said, we can turn that old libido up too. Shall we try it? Just for kicks?”

“No,” moaned Loki, “Please don’t.”

The Grandmaster raised his eyebrows. “No ‘Master’? Not even a 'Grandmaster'?”

“Please don’t, _Master_ -curse you!”

“Hmmm, not sure I like being cursed. Sounds spooky. Ew." He shuddered theatrically. "Let’s just do this, Lokes. See what happens.”

He touched a finger to the surface of the band and swiped.

Loki howled. He was beyond any pretense at dignity. If the desire in him had been a fire before, it was now a supernova.

“Oh Norns, Please, Master, please. I’ll tell you anything you want. I’ll do anything you want. Oh please, I can’t bear it!”

The Grandmaster smiled. “You know I _could_ leave you here. All tied up and squirming around. Come back tomorrow. Or the next day. Would you like that?”

Loki could only whimper, a pitiful, shameful sound. He felt dizzy with need, his cock frotting uselessly against the fabric beneath him as he jerked his hips helplessly.

“But I _do_ want to hear about this Thor of yours.”

“I’ll tell you! _Please_ , Master,” Loki begged. "I...I won't disobey you again, ever. Please."

The Grandmaster raised his hand. “Give our Pet God a time-out Chanse, huh?”

Almost at once the green phallus slid out of his hole. It was hardly much better. His cock still slid in a pool of his own leaking cum, and his body streamed with sweat. Every molecule of his body ached for relief.

The Grandmaster grinned. “I like how we can share stuff- warms the heart. An atmosphere of trust is what I’m going for here. So this Thor- your Brother, correct?”

“Adopted,” panted Loki. “Not that it makes it any less...”

“Hot?”

“Shameful.”

“So, you fuck him or just want to?”

“He fucks me. I...I...”

“You just love it, huh? You’re that type, Lokes- I could tell right away. Aloof. Rebellious. Strutting around the galaxy trying to enslave planets. But what you _really_ want is some big strong God of Thunder to throw you on a bed and have his way, right?”

Loki blushed. “I...”

The Grandmaster wagged a finger “Atmosphere of trust, remember?”

“ _Yes_. I want that. For him to use me. And he does.”

“But?”

“But...” Loki hesitated. Admitting his secret to another was embarrassing, certainly, but he suddenly realised how long it had lain within him, spreading its poison until his affair with Thor was as much a misery to him as it was a thrill.

“But he’s ashamed of it. Even more than I am. He won’t look at me when we...when we fuck. Or afterwards. He won’t kiss me. Won’t even fuck me face to face. When I suck his cock he closes his eyes, and I wonder if he’s thinking of _her_. His Midgardian woman.”

He wasn’t sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t what happened; The Grandmaster set his goblet down, rolled to lie beside Loki, whose head was turned to the left, sweaty cheek plastered to the soft blankets. 

“Poor little Pet.”

His lips pressed against Loki’s, parting them so that the Grandmaster’s tongue could slip into his mouth. The kiss was deep and tender, and Loki felt the shock of it giving way to a feeling of pain and astonishment that for a moment eclipsed his arousal.

“If you were mine, I’d look at you every minute”

“I thought I was yours, Master?” Loki breathed.

The Grandmaster smiled ruefully. “The other thing I know about Pets like you, Loki is that they all break their chains eventually. I like to let them go before that happens. Someone like you needs to be ruled by a Master they’ll follow _without_ chains. And much as it pains me, that’s not me, is it honey?”

Loki closed his eyes. Shook his head.

“Which is not to say I’m not going to fuck the immortal life out of you while I _am_ holding your leash. What say we start now?”

The Grandmaster clapped his hands and a pair of gold-clad Servants entered the room.

“Untie my little Pet here, would you? Get him something to drink.”

Loki gasped as the cuffs were released from his ankles and wrists.

“Sit up, Loki. Taste this. Like ten guys died brining this here. Worth it.” The Servants helped Loki to sit up. His limbs trembled with exertion as the blood rushed back to his cramped muscles. He sipped obediently from the cup the Grandmaster held to his lips. The drink was sweet and refreshing and cleared his head a little. The passion in him was still almost unbearable, but the feeling of being on the edge of madness had retreated.

The Grandmaster put out a hand to stroke Loki's cock, which still rose like a rapier, and Loki moaned, opening his legs to allow the Sakaarian greater access.

“Good boy. I kinda envy this Brother of yours. You’re going to train up into such a perfect little toy for someone.”

“He doesn’t want me,” said Loki.

“Sure he does. He just needs to realise it. But let’s not talk about him anymore. I’m your Master for now and you’re going to serve me, aren’t you?”

“Yes Master.” The words still mortified him, and yet there was something that felt true to them too. This man _had_ mastered him, and Loki was beyond ready to give himself up to his conqueror. in fact he thought he'd scream if he had to wait much longer for it.

The Grandmaster pushed him onto his back, but gently. Loki kept his legs spread open. If his body belonged to the Grandmaster of Sakaar-for however long he chose to keep him- then he’d play the part he’d accepted with his accustomed single mindedness.

The two Servants came forward again to accept the robes as the Grandmaster shrugged them off his shoulders, and now the man knelt above Loki, naked. The hair of his chest fell in a delicious waterfall from collarbone to that beautiful full cock, and Loki spread his legs wider still, wanting the man inside him- wanting to be owned by him in the most essential way.

_If you were mine, I’d look at you every minute._

And the Grandmaster did look at him, their eyes locked together as he lay on top of Loki, gently but firmly pinned his hands above his head. The hair of his belly teased at Loki’s cock making him gasp and sigh, and the Grandmaster laughed. 

“You are an eager little thing, huh? You know how I said I didn’t like begging without permission? Well, you have my permission.”

And Loki did not need to be urged again. He began to beg the Grandmaster in his most eloquent language, using all the considerable powers at his disposal to beg for the man to take him as the head of the Sakaarian’s cock nudged his hole, then pressed through the ring of muscle and slid inside him with one long heavenly thrust as Loki cried out.

“Feel free to come anytime you want, Loki, cutie,” the Grandmaster whispered.

And then he began to thrust in earnest. He was smaller than Thor, but he was a skilled lover who seemed to know just how to angle his hips to force the greatest amount of pleasure from Loki’s saturated nerve endings. He wrapped his legs around the Grandmaster and squirmed against him, wanting it deeper and harder. His first orgasm rose up inside him like the billowing blossoming of some exotic flower and then grew beyond into a feeling of abject pleasure beyond any he had known. The spend surged out of him, painting his body and his Master’s body which slid faster on top of him, using his own spend to fuck the full length of his shaft into Loki’s abused hole.

Usually Loki would have hated being fucked beyond his own orgasm, but he felt like a perfect puddle of submissiveness as this man held him down and used him, and already the second climax was building within him. The Grandmaster’s teeth grazed his neck and he began to beg again.

“Please Master, I want your spend inside me. I want you to fill me.”

The Grandmaster made a pleased sound and began to fuck him harder still. 

Loki’s climax reached its peak just as the Grandmaster threw his head back and shot his own load deep into Loki’s hole, filling him with torrents of hot spend.

“My Pet God,” the Grandmaster purred.

“My Master.”

* * *

They did not leave the Grandmaster’s chambers for the next ten days. They ate together- Loki kneeling at the Grandmaster’s feet to accept the food directly from his hand. They slept together, limbs tangled, Loki aching from pleasure, often still filled with his Master’s seed.

But mostly the Grandmaster took him, in a hundred different ways. There were perverse ways of taking one’s pleasure from another that not even a God had imagined, but it seemed that the Grandmaster had not only imagined them but was an expert in them.

After ten days the Grandmaster said it was time they started to attend The Entertainments again, and Loki knew that their time together was coming to a close.

He was surprised at his own sense of loss- and yet he knew deep down that the Grandmaster was correct- there was only one being in the Multiverse that he would submit himself to body and spirit, and he was many worlds away.

Or so Loki thought.


	7. A Contest of Champions.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor has arrived on Sakaar and the Grandmaster is not pleased. Can Loki win back his attention and save his Brother at the same time?

“What’re you whispering about?”

Loki jumped. Of all the beings he didn’t want on the same galaxy, let alone in the same room together, the Grandmaster and Thor Odinson would rank first among them.

It had been another ordinary day- as ordinary as they came on Sakaar at least. He’d been tied up in the Grandmaster’s bed all morning, but now they’d joined the perpetual party in the Entertainment room, the Grandmaster amusing himself with the odd music that Loki never could grow to like, and himself enjoying the flattery and attention of the court hangers on.

Until that was he’d glanced across the room and almost choked on his drink.

_Thor. Here._

“I’ve never met this man in my life.”

Even as he spoke the words. Loki saw the knowing glint in the Grandmaster’s eyes, and naturally Thor confirmed his identity immediately. Loki waited, heart fluttering for the Grandmaster to hint at the secret he’d revealed. It was the sort of thing that amused him. As sweet as he could be with his Pet, his sense of humor was almost as wicked as Loki’s own. Certainly Loki would have taken great pleasure watching his victim squirm had the roles been reversed.

Instead, the Grandmaster pretended innocence. Loki almost felt pity for Thor as he earnestly strove to convince the Grandmaster of his royal status, not knowing that he was being teased.

_Sparkles_.

Not even Loki had been that cruel- Well, maybe occasionally.

As soon as Thor was taken from the Entertainment room, Loki turned to his master, sinking to his knees. The Grandmaster didn’t demand that his subjects knelt before him- this was not Asgard with her tedious protocols, but Loki knew that such displays of submission pleased him.

“Grandmaster, could we talk?”

“We’re talking now. I guess things are getting serious, huh? I’m meeting the family.”

Loki shook his head. “Please, Master?”

The Grandmaster rolled his eyes, “Oh alright then, but you’re going to make it worth my while, right?”

“Of course.”

* * *

Once safely ensconced in the Grandmaster’s chambers Loki allowed the man to tumble him onto the bed. He’d come to know this bed very well over the past two weeks. He lay passive as the Grandmaster stripped away his fine clothes, knowing that this was what the Sakaarian preferred- himself nude but for the silver collar, and the Grandmaster fully adorned in the type of finery Loki had once enjoyed himself. When he lay naked beside his Master, he began to speak.

“What do you mean to do with him?”

“Concerned?”

Loki said nothing.

“I can see the attraction. He is beautiful. Got that whole wild, untamed warrior thing going on. The hair though, _eesh_. So...old-school, you know?”

Loki waited patiently. It did not do to interrupt the Grandmaster. He knew that if he waited meekly enough the man would circle back around to his point. Despite his odd rambling speech the mind was as sharp as a sliver of glass.

The Grandmaster began to toy with Loki’s nipples. They’d received much attention this morning and stood out swollen and sensitive from the pale skin of his chest. Loki squirmed as the Grandmaster rolled one and then the other between his fingers.

“I guess it’s up to you what I do with him, Pet.”

“Let him free,” said Loki at once. Sakaar was no place for Thor. The God was too guileless to last here a day,

“Hmmm, no can do, I’m afraid. You see he hurt you. He made you feel bad. And if anyone’s going to do that it’s going to be me.” He gave Loki’s nipple a twist that made him whimper. “Besides, he seems so eager to face my Champion. Wouldn’t want to disappoint him.”

“Grandmaster you’ve treated me kindly...”

The Grandmaster raised an eyebrow.

“Well...you’ve given me what I wanted up until now.”

“True.”

“So please, just let him go. I...I wish to go with him, but I won’t if you want me here,”

The Grandmaster’s sighed, “I do want you here, Pet. But I saw the way you looked at him. The problem is, he doesn’t look at you. Not when it counts That’s what you told me, right? Right now he wants your help, but when you two get together in private it’s a different story. No kisses, no words of love, no poetry.”

“I can’t abide poetry.”

“Well, the point still stands! No. He’s not going anywhere. He needs to be educated. I educated you, didn’t I?”

“You did. But...you can’t mean to train Thor as you trained me, Master. He couldn’t bear the indignity. He isn’t like me, he doesn’t secretly...”

“Want to be treated like my sexy little immortal plaything? Hmmm, perhaps you’re right. As seductive as he is, I’m beginning to go off him. No, the arena is a better fit. A God of Thunder- should be good, right? My champion is getting, uh, _super_ bored killing all his opponents without breaking a sweat. Maybe this would pep him up a little?”

Loki’s heart sank. He knew of no warrior stronger than his Brother, but this champion of the Grandmaster's had a formidable reputation. Loki had never seen him in action, but he’d witnessed several of the arena battles called The Contest of Champions at the Grandmaster’s side, and knew them to be brutal events.

“My Brother is strong. He might defeat your champion. Spoil your fun.”

“I’ve yet to meet the man who can spoil my fun.”

“He’s a God, not a man,” said Loki.

“So are you, Lokes, and I’m still about to fuck you like ,uh...well pick your title. Whore? Pet? Slave?”

And that was the end of that conversation. Loki let the Grandmaster take what he wanted from his body, using all of his tricks and skills to please the man, but when the Grandmaster dismissed him an hour later he still refused to let Loki know what Thor’s fate would be.

“Can I at least see him before his battle?”

“Down there in that nasty Gladiatorum? Ew, I don’t think so.”

“I wouldn’t have to be there physically. I could project myself. If you’d let me have access to that part of my magic.”

The Grandmaster frowned. He looked petulant and bored by the topic- his most dangerous mood. 

“Alright. But quickly. I gotta say, Lokes, I’m not loving this whole Asgardian brotherly love thing. You’re less fun like this. _And_ you lied to me.”

“I did?”

“Yup. You kinda insinuated that you were here to borrow an army for another crack at Earth, and yet here’s your Brother telling me that Asgard is in peril, which-fun fact- _you_ never mentioned.”

Loki could only stammer. “Master I’m sorry. That was before you taught me that...”

The Grandmaster’s held up a hand. “Nope. Don’t want to hear it right now. Fine, go see Sparkles. You get ten minutes. But I’m not happy, Lokes.”

* * *

It was no use. Thor, bereft from the death of Odin, Mjolnir’s destruction, and Hela’s triumph was beyond furious with him. There would be no hope of brokering peace between the two men. Thor with his dogged determination to save Asgard on one hand, and on the other the Grandmaster with...Loki did not know what his motive was, but he could tell that the Sakaarian disliked his Brother, and suspected that the Grandmaster’s continued interest in himself was only reason Thor still lived. 

The longer they stayed on the planet the more danger Thor was in. The Grandmaster had never kept a Pet for as long as he’d kept Loki, and if Thor’s life depended on the Grandmaster’s attention span he was in serious trouble.

_Besides, the longer you’re here, the more likely Thor is to find out how you won the Grandmaster’s favour._

And that he couldn’t stand. The humiliation of it! Besides which,Thor’s jealousy would be one thing- but the lack of it might destroy him.

In fact the Grandmaster did not send for him that night, and the next day all the talk was of Thor’s impending appearance in the Contest of Champions. Loki spent most of it in his quarters. Fine though they were, the high life of Sakaar had lost much of its appeal to him. He saw more clearly than ever that it was Thor he cared for- always had, and even if his plan to usurp the Grandmaster hadn’t become a great deal more complicated than he could have imagined, life without Thor would have little meaning to him. Even if his brother never forgave him at least Loki needed to know he was alive somewhere.

The hours passed slowly, Loki consumed with anxiety over Thor’s fate. His last words to him had been some jibe about placing a wager against him. He ought to have said something comforting- offered some sort of advice, but Thor’s self-righteousness needled him into acting as his worst self, as it so often did. Of course Thor was right to be angry with him! But did his Brother truly not believe that if there was any way to rescue him, Loki would have done it?

The situation here called for tact and cunning, which was Loki’s specialty, not Thor’s.

_He doesn’t trust me. Perhaps I’ve given him little cause. But it still hurts that he can’t see how easily I’d obey him if only I thought he wanted me as I want him._

He was unsure whether he wanted to be there for the Contest or not, but it was not his decision to make. The Grandmaster summoned him an hour before the fight was to begin. The other times he’d attended the Contests had been in the bed in Grandmaster’s more private suite, and he’d paid little attention to the battles below as the Grandmaster used his body during the less interesting bouts.

This time they were in the more public Gentry’s viewing room, and the Grandmaster made no attempt to pull him into his lap or caress him. In fact Loki thought it prudent to seat himself as far away as possible without irritating the man. Anything he might say now could be the wrong thing. Should he cheer for the Champion and risk the Grandmaster’s pleasure at such obvious deceit? Should he cheer for Thor and deepen the Grandmaster’s jealousy? His feigned disinterest would be equally likely to rouse his Master’s wrath.

In the end it was academic.

Thor seemed pleased to see the green brute, but Loki’s breath froze in his throat. _That Monster, here!_

There was a certain delicious justice seeing the Thunder God slammed into the dirt of the arena floor, but Loki watched with his heart in his mouth, the Grandmaster’s growing puzzlement and annoyance palpable as Thor began first to match the Hulk, and then to dominate him. When the fight ended with the Grandmaster’s triggering of Thor’s obedience disk, Loki did not know what to think.

The Grandmaster hated to be thwarted above all else, and his Brother’s near-victory was very much off-script. He did however like to be surprised, and Thor’s defeat of the Hulk had certainly surprised him.

He tried to catch the Grandmaster’s eye as he swept out of the viewing booth, but the man did not so much as glance at him.

“A battle for the ages!” said Chanse, slipping an arm around his shoulders. “Is it true you know the Lord of Thunder?”

Loki smiled sickly.

“Care to join me in my quarters? If the Grandmaster doesn’t need you of course.”

“He hasn’t yet told me if he needs me,” said Loki, stiffly.

“Oh!” said Chanse. “Well I’m sure he will. You are the favorite after all.”

There was a sly tone in the young man’s voice that Loki didn’t care for.

_You must remember- none of these people are your friends, however much they court you._ The only being he could trust here was being scraped up off the arena floor by the medics as Loki tried not to watch.

_Oh Thor, what are we going to do?_

In fact the Grandmaster did call for Loki, an hour after the Contest had ended for the evening. He prepared himself with as much care as he could at short notice. By now he'd accumulated a wardrobe of clothing selected or him by the Grandmaster, from his almost-Asgardian finery down to wisps of silk that were barely clothing at all.

He decided on something towards the latter end of the scale. It was likely the Grandmaster had had his share of Asgard for today and to dress in his Godly armor might only anger his Master. By the same token the Grandmaster had behaved so coldly towards him since he’d asked to see Thor he could not assume that the Sakaarian would welcome an obvious attempt at seduction. 

Instead he chose a garment which was-perhaps ironically- close to the outfit he’d appeared in when they’d first met. The toga was deep blue instead of green, but the bare nipple and short hemline ought to show the proper amount of submission to the Grandmaster’s desires without being too presumptuous.

At least he strongly hoped so. There was more than his ascension to glory at stake here- Thor’s life might be in his hands.

The room the serving man lead him to was one he had never seen before. It was a large space with a dizzying pattern of blue and white splashed across the floor that continued up the curving wall to the peak of a domed ceiling festooned with softly shifting lights. A complicated contraption of curved metal and beams of rainbow colored lasers emitted soft music, which although less discordant than the Grandmaster’s usual fare did little to sooth Loki’s nerves.

The east wall of the room was open to Sakaar, but some sort of force field filtered out the smell of spaceship fuel and the junkwastes, not to mention the perpetual din of the metropolis, and the breeze that blew in was mild and refreshing, rippling the large blue silken hanging that dominated the western wall. _If worst comes to worst I can throw myself over the balcony. A suitabley Asgardian gesture of defiance._

The Grandmaster lay back on the pillows of a large white bed, as usual sipping from a glass of something brightly colored and no doubt intoxicating. His robes were of a light cloth of gold, cut high at the thigh and belted loosely at the waist.

He smiled when he saw Loki, which was a good start.

“Don’t you look just perfect? Kind of match the decor. But you’d look even more perfect naked.”

Loki felt his apprehension retreat ever so slightly. If the Grandmaster was in a mood to fuck him again, then perhaps he’d been forgiven. Perhaps _Thor_ had been forgiven. And didn’t he feel a pang of happiness too, that the Grandmaster had not forgotten him quite yet? Perhaps his state of servility had been forced upon him, but he had to admit that it thrilled him nevertheless to know that this powerful man wanted him.

Loki bowed his head, shrugging his shoulder free of the flimsy blue toga and letting it fall to his feet in a pile of silk.

He frowned. Was that some faint sound coming from behind the blue wall hanging? Almost like a muffled gasp. He glanced toward it, but the heavy fabric appeared blameless, swaying in the breeze. What he had heard was doubtless the hem of it sweeping the floor. He was nervy and jumping at the wind!

“Eyes on me, Loki, Pet,” said the Grandmaster, and there was something soothing in obeying. Letting all doubts and questions fall away.

“I was worried, Master. That I had offended you.”

The Grandmaster smiled. “Your problem, Loki is that you think too much. We need to turn that pesky brain back off again, Hmmm? Come here.”

As Loki approached, the Grandmaster slid forward to sit on the end of the bed.

“Come here, Pet. Stand between my knees. Hands on your head.”

The Grandmaster’s hands slid up and down his chest, fingers playing lightly with the hair above his swelling prick. His hands explored Loki’s body with a possessive leisure, thumbs rubbing circles on his stiff nipples, even tracing the ticklish pucker of his navel so that he had to grit his teeth not to squirm. 

The Grandmaster laughed. “That’s better, right? This is where you belong.”

His hand moved lower, encircling Loki’s cock. His time on Sakaar had made him so much more sensitive. Perhaps it was a cumulative effect of the Grandmaster’s various inflaming potions, but he moaned as the man’s hand ran lightly up and down the length of his shaft. The whole of his loins felt infused with that great, warm submissive need again.

“You’re very different from your Brother,” said Grandmaster, softly. “I know- adopted. But you’re both so pretty in your own way. Perhaps I’ll have you make love for me? I’d like to see you suck him. See your face covered with his come.”

“No,” gasped Loki. “Do what you will with me, but spare Thor.”

“Spare him? Like this is some sort of torture?” He stroked a little faster and Loki gasped.

“It...it would be for him.”

“Because he isn’t like you. He doesn’t want it.”

Loki said nothing.

“Pet?”

“I’m sorry Master. You’re right. He’s not like me.”

“Who just wants to be taken over and over in every horrible way I can think of? You’re so much fun, Lokes. How about you show me how much you want it? Our guest is running late.”

_Guest?_

The thought startled Loki. The Grandmaster had put his servants to use when he needed an extra pair of hands to dominate Loki, but a guest was something new.

_What if it’s him? What if he means to make good on his threats and have you couple with Thor for his amusement?_ Thor would never submit to it. It would destroy any hope of love between them _. But with you wearing this cursed collar and him with the disk, you may not have a choice._

The Grandmaster gave his thigh a pinch. “Hello? You there? I thought you were meant to be showing me what an uh, submissive little Pet God you are, not meditating.”

“I beg your pardon, Grandmaster.” 

The Grandmaster shook his head. “Over my knee.”

Loki’s eyes shut and he dropped his head. “Please Master, not that.”

“Huh, well you see that makes me want to do it _more_ , so...”

Slowly Loki lowered himself over the man’s lap, his palms pressed to the cool floor so that his ass was raised high, presented for punishment, his legs slightly spread just as the Grandmaster had trained him. It wasn’t the pain he minded- the Grandmaster had tortured him far more cruelly in their time together- it was the indignity of it. Ass up as though begging to be penetrated, hard cock trapped painfully beneath him.

To want this- to be spanked like a disobedient serving boy! And yet the Grandmaster was right- there was some part of him that _did_ want it, and wanted it more because it humiliated him so.

“How many should I give you?” The Grandmaster’s hand glided over the pale supple flesh that it would soon turn bright scarlet.

Loki always hated when the Grandmaster did this- made him complicit in his own punishment. Hated it because it made it impossible to deny that he craved this. 

“Ten.”

The Grandmaster chuckled. “Try again, Pet.”

“Twenty, Master?”

“Let’s say fifty, or until you cry. Whichever comes first.”

Loki made a small noise of disbelief.

“What? Don’t think you’re going to spill some of those pretty tears for me? Even though I brought this?”

The sudden sensation of white-hot pain across his raised buttocks made Loki cry out. He struggled, but the collar around his neck was already sapping the energy from his limbs and he was forced to dangle weakly over the Grandmaster’s lap as the man’s gentle fingers traced the welt rising up from his skin.

“Please,” Loki begged, his voice breaking. “Not that cane. Anything else, Master.”

Although he could not see it Loki had become familiar with many of the Grandmaster’s toys recently and this was one he particularly despised. A thin black rod, surprisingly heavy for its slight, supple size, enchanted with some ancient battle magic that set ablaze the pain receptors regardless of whatever powers the victim might possess. 

“That’s one. Forty-Nine to go.”

Loki knew that tensing his body would only make the pain worse- perhaps the weakness the collar had inflicted on his muscles would help him, because relaxing himself was impossible otherwise.

“Please just do it if you’re going to!” he spat.

“You don’t like the anticipation? Huh. Well OK.”

The can came down with a crack-once, twice, five, ten times on his ass, each flare of agony merging into the next until he howled.

“That better? How many was that? Four?”

“Ten! Dammit, it was ten.”

He lifted his hands to rub his burning cheeks. The skin felt hot and the puffy welts like ribbons of fire.

“It’s funny, you don’t sound super grateful.”

“I’m not! I hate this.”

“Really? Doesn’t feel like it to me.” The Grandmaster jiggled his leg where Loki’s prick was snugged against his robes.

“Feels like you’re leaking all over my robes. You know these are expensive?”

“I...”

“What do you want? Mercy? Or for me to whip you until you cry. If you give me the right answer I might let you come later.”

“I...” Loki searched for the words.

“Brain switched off already? That _was_ quick. I’m curious to know though, Pet.”

Loki mumbled the words.

“What was that? Didn’t catch it.”

“I want you to whip me.”

“A little bit louder? Maybe more polite too. Good manners are free.”

Loki swore. “I want you to whip me, Master, _please_.”

“Oh cool. I was hoping you’d say that. And no faking. Crocodile tears just don’t do it for me. Now where were we?”

“Ten, Master.” the words felt as though they were being jerked out of him.

“Are we sure? I think it’s best if we start over.”

“Master, no plea...”

But his words ended in a shout of pain as the black rod slashed into his buttocks. At first he struggled, trying to master the pain, but the Grandmaster punished him without mercy, bringing the cane down over and over on his upraised buttocks. When a stroke landed on top of its predecessor, Loki didn’t just shout he wailed. He made it to thirty before he gave up struggling, hanging in place simply accepting the Grandmaster’s punishment of his body. He never knew if he made it to fifty. The sobs burst out of him all at once.

“Please Master, I’m sorry!” He could feel the hot hateful tears beginning to pour down his cheeks and hook his head to rid himself of them, but it was no use.

“For what?”

“I...I can’t remember. Whatever you want.”

Mercifully, miraculously the whipping stopped. Loki’s body shook with sobs. The sound disgusted him. To be weeping like a maiden! But once begun he couldn’t stop.

_Was that another sound from behind the hanging blue curtain?_

But what of it? His mind was too fractured to cope with coherent thought. When the Grandmaster told him gently to sit up, he did, not caring that his burning welts chafed against the man’s robes, only wanting to be held and comforted.

The Grandmaster kissed his mouth and Loki let himself melt into it, Loving the feeling of those strong hands that had inflicted so much pain soothing him.

“Feel better? Worries flown? You certainly look less tense.”

Loki could only nod, resting his head on his Master’s chest.

“See how much better you feel when you give up the thinking? The plotting? Just let yourself be mastered, Huh? If only your Brother knew what you really wanted.”

“How could I ever tell him? He’d think I was...broken. I...I must be to want this.”

The Grandmaster shrugged. “Maybe. But you’re going to uh go your whole life faking it because of what other people might think? A big bad evil dictator like you?”

Loki’s sob turned into a laugh. “When you put it that way. But Thor would never treat me like this. He’s too pure.”

“Too pure to love you like you want?”

“He doesn’t love me.”

Speaking of Thor was dragging Loki out of the warm blissful headspace the Grandmaster had dragged him into.

“Must we talk of this now? I’d serve _you_ Grandmaster. While you want me.”

The Grandmaster stroked his cheek. “Flattery will get you everywhere on Sakaar. But it’s not me you need to worry about serving tonight.”

“Oh?”

“Uh-huh. I’ve had you to myself for long enough. See, what I was thinking was on one hand I have this crazy new Pet who just needs to be,” he squeezed Loki’s hard cock “Broken beyond broken because it makes him come like a volcano. And then on the other hand I have this mighty warrior I want to reward who already has more cash, trinkets and pillow slaves than he can handle and is getting kind of bored.”

Loki felt a cold chill. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah- I felt he needed something special after tonight. Like, something new? And since _you_ need to be fucked like the delightful little, uh _animal_ you are, I thought we could create ourselves kind of a win-win situation here.”

“Grandmaster,” said Loki. “What are you talking about?”

“Only it’s also’ kind of a win- _lose_ situation, because your Brother lost his battle tonight, and I kinda thought, well _some_ Asburgian should get punished for it. And you’ve been pretty clear you don’t want it to be him, so...”

At that moment the doors opened. Topaz glowered at Loki then flicked her eyes to the Grandmaster.

“Presenting the Champion of Champions.”

Loki gaped at the figure behind her. 

_No. The Grandmaster could not mean it. That brute. That beast. It must be some terrible joke._

But Topaz was already retreating, locking the doors behind her as the Hulk strode into the room his footfalls shaking the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I totally didn't plan on having Loki get owned, used and thoroughly humiliated by the Hulk, and yet now I've had that very mean idea how could I not?


	8. Door Number Two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Grandmaster has ordered Loki to serve the Hulk as punishment for Thor's defeat in the Contest of Champions. Can Loki swallow what remains of his pride enough to please the Monster, and what is it the Grandmaster isn't telling him?

“Your Brother doesn’t think you can be educated.”

Thor snarled, twisted away from the Sakaarian’s be-ringed hand which ran through the close crop of his hair.

“My Brother’s not as clever as he thinks he is.”

“You know him well, your Brother?”

“Well enough to know that he’s betrayed me, yet again.”

The Grandmaster shook his head. “Huh. I’m sensing some family discord here, Sparkles. Funny. I’d heard you were, uh, _close_.”

His mouth twisted into a peculiar smile. “See on this I happen to disagree with him. I think you’re capable of learning, only you’re more of a...what do they call it?” He twirled a finger. “A visual learner. So. A demonstration. Shall we?”

As though Thor had a choice. The healers had worked their art on him, but it was hardly much comfort, strapped as he was into this loathsome chair once more, the obedience disk still clamped to his neck.

“I won that Battle, you know that I did. Release me.”

The Grandmaster began to walk, and the chair followed.

“Nuh-uh. You definitely lost.”

“Only because you cheated!”

“Still lost.”

Thor shook his head. “No wonder my Brother has your favor, you’re as slippery as he is.”

“Interesting choice of words. Perhaps he’s less...uh slippery than you think though, Hmmm Sparkles? Maybe what we have here is just a failure in understanding. I think you’re going to like this. And I _know_ I am.”

The room they entered was patterned with outlandish swirls of blue and white that hurt Thor’s eyes. A large white bed stood at its center and a few low couches were scattered around the outer walls.

“See you think you understand, but you don’t. I’m going to show you.”

Thor opened his mouth to reply, but one of the Grandmaster’s Guards stepped forward, holding a device that looked ironically similar to the one his treacherous Brother had been forced to wear after his adventures on Midgard. The gag was forced over his mouth, a large rubber bit pushing between his lips, flattening his tongue, a metal shield covering his face from nose to chin, and a strap clamped tightly behind his head, silencing him except for muffled growls of outrage.

“Stow our Lord of Thunder through here,” The Grandmaster said. “And somebody fetch me a daiquiri, huh?”

The mechanized chair glided across the room, flanked by a pair of Guards. They were hardly necessary: the combination of his exhaustion post-battle and the obedience disk meant he had little chance of breaking his bonds. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the Grandmaster flop down onto the oversize white bed. 

_Incredible! Was the man taking a nap?_ He didn’t understand what sort of lesson that would teach- except that he’d been right to want to pound the Sakaarian’s smug face into pulp.

But now the chair moved away from the Grandmaster towards a huge blue silk hanging that occupied the whole of the back wall, closer and closer, until Thor flinched expecting the chair to hit a wall or the smooth fabric to slide over him....only there was no fabric. The chair passed through what looked like solid satin into a smaller room beyond it and then turned around so that he faced the Grandmaster once more. From this side the blue curtain that had looked so real was invisible but for a faint blue haze at the edges of the archway it obscured.

“Like it?” The man called to him. “It’s a what do you call it? Illusion. Lasers or something. Neat, huh? You get to watch my little educational demonstration without anyone knowing you’re there. Some people would pay a lot of credits to watch this little matchup, so I hope you enjoy it. Guards? Go get my new Pet, would you.”

_Matchup? New Pet?_ Thor did not like the sound of this. Was it some sort of monster he was expected to fight? It seemed a peculiar venue for such a battle. Fighting a beast was certainly more to his taste than being strapped helplessly to this chair watching the Grandmaster’s sip his drink and hum his witless tunes. 

It was almost a relief when the door to the blue chamber opened and a tall, slender, achingly familiar figure entered the room.

_Loki!_ Thor struggled against his binds trying to call out to his Brother, but the gag did its job and Loki did not even glance in his direction.

What good would it have down anyhow? His Brother clearly has some scheme going on here, and rescuing Thor did not seem to be a part of it. He’d never understood his Brother- his betrayals nor his desire to lay with Thor. 

The fact that they knew each other’s bodies shamed him. Not because of their adopted relationship, but because of the way he felt for Loki.

His Brother was so proud and so cold and Thor knew how he’d sneer if he ever guessed what the Thunder God truly felt for him. Thor was the survivor of a hundred battles, but he did not think he could survive the full force his Brother’s scorn when it came to the love he bore him, and so if Loki moved to kiss him, he turned his head away rather than risk betraying the depth of his love. They never talked of what they did in hidden rooms and dark corners. It was like they were a set of quads instead of a pair of Brothers- One pair who quarreled or allied out in the real world, and one who made hurried, shamed love in the secret places between the glorious battles and intrigues. But never the kind of cruel, passionate love Thor craved.

The things he _wanted_ to do to his Brother were unworthy. If Loki knew that when Thor held him down and took him, it was his mastery of the cunning Jotun that excited him almost more than the physical sensation then he’d laugh. Or worse yet be hurt by Thor’s desire to conquer and be worshipped by the one being in the multiverse who refused to do so. Loki’s status as Odin’s _other_ son was a sore subject, so Thor could hardly imagine he’d see his own desires as anything but the rankest insult. 

What was wrong with him that he both loved Loki and wanted to treat him so? To humble him, to dominate him to wrestle away the arrogant mask he showed to the world? He dared not tell Loki of the love nor of his darker desires and so in an odd way their couplings drove them ever further apart.

And here Loki was, so close and yet so unreachable as always. His clothes were most peculiar- what there were of them, showing half of his bare chest and his long muscular legs. As always the desire to kiss the pale skin was overwhelming, but a kiss might turn into a bite and that into something that he could not control. Perhaps it was good that he was tucked away here, out of reach and out of sight.

But what was it the Grandmaster had in mind?

Perhaps to gloat with Loki over his betrayal of Thor? Well if the Sakaarian thought that hearing his Brother's disdain for him was any sort of novel education he was sorely mistaken.

The Grandmaster’s smiled as Loki approached the bed. _An odd thing to have in a chamber such as this._

“Don’t you look just perfect? Kind of match the decor. But you’d look even more perfect naked.”

Thor’s eyes grew wide. He couldn’t grasp what he was hearing. He waited for Loki’s reply- waspish or coolly diplomatic depending on how deeply he was offended by the suggestion. 

In fact Thor was offended on his behalf. To flirt with a Prince of Asgard as though he was a pillow slave!

When Loki shrugged his clothing to the floor in one fluid gesture Thor gasped behind his gag. He could barely comprehend what he was seeing. 

It _couldn’t_ be. Proud, indomitable Loki baring his body at this man’s command? Was this how he had won the Grandmaster’s favor? Impossible! He barely tolerated Thor’s lovemaking. And Thor had heard rumors of how he’d treated his own lovers- casting them off as soon as their worship of him grew too unwieldy.

Yet here was Loki standing between the Grandmaster’s legs, his hands on top of his head to stretch that long beautiful body taught as the Sakaarian’s hands took possession of him.

Thor struggled against his bonds, outraged as the man touched Loki’s chest, his thighs even his prick which rose to meet the Sakaarian’s touch, astonishingly, unbelievably hard.

_What is this?_

He could perhaps comprehend some heartless seduction on Loki’s part, but to stand so submissively and so obviously aroused while the man handled him like a...

_A Pet. Bring me my new Pet._

_Not Loki. It can’t be. He’d never...._

And now to Thor’s fresh amazement he realized they were speaking of him.

“Perhaps I’ll have you make love for me?” The Grandmaster was saying. “I’d like to see you suck him. See your face covered with his come.”

“No,” said Loki swiftly. “Do what you will with me, but spare Thor.”

“Spare him? Like this is some sort of torture?” The Grandmaster’s fist stroked Loki’s cock and Thor saw his eyes flutter shut just as they did when Thor entered him.

“It...it would be for him.”

“Because he isn’t like you. He doesn’t want it.”

Loki was silent.

“Pet?”

“I’m sorry Master. You’re right. He’s not like me.”

“Who just wants to be taken over and over in every horrible way I can think of? You’re so much fun.”

Thor could not believe what was happening. Too much too quickly, that was certain. Had Loki shared their shameful secret? It seemed that he must have! And could it be true that proud, defiant Loki was calling this man Master? The Sakaarian had implied that Loki _wanted_ this treatment, yet how could that be?

_And he asked for you to be spared. He defended you._

Perhaps this was the most baffling thing of all. He’d always thought that on some level Loki despised him, in spite of- and perhaps because of their sexual relationship. That maybe he sensed what Thor wished to do to him and resented it. 

_To be taken over and over in every horrible way I can think of._

It just _couldn’t_ be. Thor struggled in his chair once more, suddenly ashamed to be watching his Brother treated so degradingly without his knowledge.

He was even more ashamed that the sight of the Loki being handled exactly as Thor had always wished to handle him was bringing his cock half-hard in his tight leather britches. 

How often had he wished himself in the Grandmaster’s position? Loki naked ( _Except for a collar! He wears a collar!_ ) giving himself up to Thor’s will instead of merely his own almost thoughtless physical desire.

His head was too filled with his own whirling thoughts to concentrate on the conversation between the two men, but when Loki bent himself over the Grandmaster’s lap, the perfect picture of submission Thor found himself breathing more heavily. And when the Grandmaster’s began to bring a short black switch down on Loki’s raised buttocks making the Jotun cry out in what sounded like a mix of agony and pleasure, the feeling of his own cock swelling made him squirm in his bonds.

He ought to be appalled at this. _Outraged_ . Certainly not wishing it was _him_ whipping his infuriating, beautiful Brother as he yelped and begged for mercy. 

_Harder. Whip him harder. Norns knows he’s earned it and he looks so beautiful as he suffers._

A terrible, unworthy thought, but one that made his cock strain painfully against its bindings. When Loki began to sob, Thor felt his cock begin to leak and closed his eyes trying to master himself. He wanted to hold Loki, to comfort him, to kiss the tears from his cheeks- and then to whip him again, twice as hard.

Now the Grandmaster’s was petting Loki’s head, and Thor was astonished to hear his own name yet again.

“Thor would never treat me like this. He’s too pure.”

“Too pure to love you like you want?”

“He doesn’t love me.”

_I do though, I do. And you’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to tell you. And as for treating you this way...._

The whole situation was so absurd he could have laughed. All this time he and Loki shared the same passion, but neither of them had wanted to admit it?

_No, you just want it to be that way. He obeys the Grandmaster for now because he seeks power, not because he desires to be used as you’d use him._

It would be just too perfect, and if he really _did_ love Loki then he must honor him by never admitting to witnessing this scene which the Grandmaster had clearly arranged to sow discord. 

Thor was still wrestling with his dilemma when the doors of the chamber opened once more.

* * *

“Grandmaster I can’t!” Loki whispered frantically. “You don’t understand, he hates me, I fact the last time we met he all but killed me.”

_Not to mention the fact that being defeated by the bestial creature still rankles._

“Do you think I’d risk my precious Pet? Everything’s under control, Loki baby. And he might hate you, but he wants to fuck you. He’s watched that little holo recording of you in the chair a dozen times.”

“What?” Spluttered Loki.

“Oh yeah, I like to make recordings of _all_ our fun on the Pleasure ships. Every angle. Crystal clear closeups. The whole deal. I don’t share them with just everyone though. Only two or three hundred of my very closest friends. Didn't I mention it?”

Loki could barely speak. 

But the thought that his sexual torment in the Grandmaster’s Pleasure ship had been witnessed not just by those in the room, but hundreds of others was of secondary significance to the vast green monster that ambled towards him. 

He shrunk closer to the Grandmaster, who chuckled, pushing Loki off his lap.

“I never had you down as shy, Lokes. Go, uh make friends. And remember- he’s my Champion. If you want to please me, you please him like a good boy.”

“I...I don’t know if I can.” Loki muttered. “He’s so...”

“Big? Isn’t he just? I won’t say we haven’t had problems before, but _you_ can manage, right? You’re a God after all.”

“A God with no powers,” said Loki, faintly.

The beast stood almost nine feet tall. His massive hands were larger than Loki’s head. _And how big’s his cock?_

Loki felt his face flushing and his heart beating faster as he watched the monster down the bucket-sized drink that was being offered to him. It must be bigger even than Thor’s. What would it be like to be held down by such a brute? To be taken by him?

The Grandmaster had stood up behind him, and now he wrapped his arms around Loki’s chest. The man’s touch felt comforting, but it was a false comfort.

“If it’s your powers you’re worried about, we can do something about it.” He tugged at Loki’s collar.

“I don’t think we need this anymore, do you?”

Loki’s mouth fell open. This was even more unexpected than the Hulk’s appearance.

“What?” He squirmed around in the man’s arms to face him. “You’d really free me?”

“If it will make things easier for my Pet, sure.”

Loki laughed, incredulous. “You’re not worried I’ll simply vanish from here? Or summon my blades and slice you and your champion to slivers?”

“No.” The Grandmaster’s eyes were amused but steady. Puzzlingly, they flicked towards the blue curtain as he spoke.

“Because you don’t want to escape. Or uh, slice and dice me and the Hulk here. What you want is to be my oh-so-good Little Pet who is about to get the best fucking of his life and is going to love every second of it. So I guess you get to choose. You can uh, _vanish_ , and never come back. Boring, but whatever! Or you can stay a little longer and have the ride of your life. And it _will_ be the ride of your life. The Big Guy is something special.”

“Hulk bored with talking!”

Loki jumped at the sound of the booming voice.

“I guess it’s time to pick, Loki.”

The Grandmaster leaned forward and kissed him, his hands at Loki’s neck, and suddenly the collar was gone. 

He could feel his power flowing back to him. It was both exhilarating and a little frightening after so long a captivity. 

The spell to transport him out of here was at his fingertips. He could find Thor. They could liberate a ship. And then...

The Grandmaster’s fingers moved lightly over the raised welts on his buttocks. Was this scene also being observed by hidden eyes? He shivered at the thought, but his cock responded, standing up, eager for what it could get. The Grandmaster’s hand slid over it, his thumb teasing at the leaking slit.

“So what’s it going to be, Pet? Going to go back to how things were before you met me, or are you ready to take the prize you really want?”

“Master...I don’t know.”

He could hear the Hulk moving closer, and turned to face him, looking up into the glittering eyes. They were less stupid than Loki liked.

“Pretty God. Hulk remember you.”

“I ah, remember you too,” Loki stammered. It would be hard to forget the beating he’d taken. The power in those hands!

“Naked,” The Hulk grinned. 

Absurdly Loki’s hands came forward to cover himself.

“No! Show Hulk.”

Loki swallowed. If he was going to leave, now would be an excellent time. Instead his hands dropped to his sides.

“Good. Hard. Hard for Hulk”

Loki’s eyes dipped to the floor, confused and embarrassed. _It’s not for you, Beast. I don’t know who it’s for. Ever since I came here and this nightmare began it seems I’ve been hard. Is the Grandmaster truly correct? Is this what I want?_

“Kneel, Pretty God.”

Loki gulped. No, this creature wasn’t stupid at all. He remembered everything that had happened on Midgard and he meant to make Loki pay for it.

_Perhaps you only act the way that you do because you want to be punished for it?_

It was exactly the sort of wisdom Odin might have dispensed- although perhaps not quite in these circumstances- and Loki was dismayed to find such a sensible thought in his own mind. _Did_ he want to be punished by this beast? 

He had a horrible feeling that he did.

“Uh, I wouldn’t keep him waiting too long. He’s got a lot of positive attributes, but patience isn’t one of them.”

The Grandmaster had retreated to a low couch at the side of the room, two of his gold-clad Pillow Servants trotted into the room to sit in his lap.

“How about we get some mood lighting in here? Get you kids in the vibe?” The Grandmaster snapped his fingers and all at once the white parts of the room faded to black, the blue panels shining out dimly with swirling light. Absurdly it _did_ help. The situation seemed less real somehow.

The Hulk moved closer. Loki’s panicked eyes moved up and down his body- naked but for a gold cloth draped around his privates. The huge muscles moved beneath the green skin like tectonic plates on some vast alien planet, and Loki could smell the scent rising from him- a not unpleasant animal musk with a hint of the leather and iron of the arenas. A warrior smell that made his heart beat a little faster. 

_Now. Vanish from sight. Get out of here before it’s too late to go back._

Instead he sank slowly to his knees.

The Hulk laughed roughly. “Good. Puny God.”

Loki felt a thrill of shame at his words that was physical, but the same feeling of submission that made his spirit quail also had his hard prick swelling almost painfully.

_Hard for Hulk. Well how about that?_

The beast tore impatiently at the gold wrapper about his hips. Loki winced as he heard the cloth rip, but he soon forgot everything as the tatters of gold fell away.

He’d never thought to see a cock bigger than Thor’s but the Hulk’s was as monstrous as its owner, easily double the length of his Brother’s and far thicker than the Thunder God’s muscular arm. It rose, half-hard out of a thick nest of jet-black hair, and the heavy sack that swung beneath it was equally outsize.

The Hulk gave the heavy prick an unselfconscious tug. “God like this.”

It was a statement, not a question, and Loki found himself swallowing. Nodding.

The Hull smiled, complacently.

Now the monster was lumbering past him, close enough for Loki to feel the warmth rising from his skin. Loki caught a stronger waft of that deep animal scent and almost moaned aloud. Whatever weird pheromone hung about the beast’s body was driving him wild. He still hated the Hulk for what he’d done to him on Midgard, but somehow that made the idea of being forced to pleasure him even more exciting.

He heard the bed creak ominously as the Hulk sank onto it and began to shuffle round to face him, when the voice boomed out a command.

“No! Show Hulk.”

Loki froze confused. _Show him what?_

“I think he means your hole, sweetie,” called the Grandmaster. “Just a wild guess.”

“Yes,” rumbled the Hulk, almost petulant. “Take too long. Hulk get angry.”

Loki cringed. It would _not_ do to have the beast get angry. And yet it was a fresh humiliation to present himself to his old enemy as the Grandmaster had trained him, spreading his knees as he bent forward at the waist, shoulders and face pressed to the cool floor, arching his back to display his most intimate part to the beast.

“Perfect, Loki baby.” The Grandmaster’s voice was somewhat muffled. Loki assumed by some part of his serving girl’s anatomy, not that he could see with his face pressed to the floor.

“Show more,” growled Hulk.

Loki bit his lip, but what was the use resisting now? He reached behind himself, balanced on his shoulders to grasp his cheeks, still striped from his whipping, pulling them wide apart so that the pink knot of his anus was fully exposed.

The Hulk laughed, a low approving sound.

“Good. Hulk going to fuck. Going to break pretty God.”

Loki moaned. He couldn’t help himself. He was suddenly aware of how much he wanted it.

_Curse the Grandmaster, how he hated proving the man right!_

“Come here, God. Crawl.”

Loki turned around and let out a shaky breath. _Don’t fight it. The sooner you let go of your dignity the less it will hurt_. He began to crawl on his hands and knees toward the Hulk. The beast sat back on the edge of the bed just as the Grandmaster’s had before him, with his legs spread so that the huge cocked lolled forward over the dangling sack. Loki could hardly keep his eyes off it, hating that he wanted it, loving that he hated it.

“Not crawl on knees! On belly.”

Loki shut his eyes. “Must I?”

“Yes. Now!”

He let out a shaky breath and lowered himself to the floor, shivering at the cold smoothness against his cock and his nipples and belly. _Please never let anyone beyond Sakaar see this,_ he prayed as he squirmed his way towards the Hulk, who was chuckling in approval.

He came to a stop between the Hulk’s spread feet.

“Good. Hulk like. Up.”

Loki didn’t have time to lift himself. The Hulk simply grabbed him by his hair and pulled him painfully to his knees. Loki hissed, his hands flying up to grab the Hulk’s fist trying to take some of the strain off his screaming scalp. The flesh of the monster’s hands was hard and thick like vulcanised rubber, but warm beneath his desperately grabbing palms.

“God Look sad.”

“ _Ah_ , you’re _hurting_ me.”

The Hulk had him lifted slightly too high to take his weight on his knees and he had to hold himself up by his arms or risk getting a hairstyle more drastic that Thor’s.

“Like it.”

“You Like it, or I like it?” Loki panted. 

“Both,” said the Hulk with a leer. He reached out a finger of his free hand and bent down Loki’s hard prick, letting it spring back up.

“ _Ah_ , please, don’t!”

The Hulk chuckled. “Don’t what?”

He batted Loki’s cock with a huge finger again.

“Oh Norns, don’t do _that_.”

The Hulk gave the hand holding Loki’s hair a shake and he gasped.

“Puny God not say ‘Don’t.’ Hulk do what Hulk wants.”

The huge finger swatted his cock back and forth, up and down. It was just rough enough to be on the edge of pain, but Loki’s feeling of helplessness, knowing that the creature could play with him in this way for as long as he chose soon had the Jotun’s cock streaming. The Hulk’s finger prodded at his hard, sensitive nipples and tickled at his taught, defenseless belly so that he squirmed and almost lost his grip on the Monster’s hand, the pain in his scalp making him gasp.

“Stop, Please!”

“No Stop. God likes.”

The Hulk took Loki’s cock between his huge thumb and his forefinger.

“So little. Puny God cock.”

_Of course it looks little in your hands!_

He knew that he was larger side of average and that the monster sought to shame him, but the words hit their target anyway which in turn increased his desire.

He felt his need rising in him as the Hulk dangled him in the uncomfortable, undignified position, rolling and teasing his cock still between just one great finger and thumb. 

“Little God has little cock. Like toy.” He pulled Loki forward by his hard prick, his body suddenly suspended from above by his hair and his aching arms, and from the front by his throbbing cock, as his legs tried uselessly to find enough purchase on the floor to take any weight.

“Please!”

The Hulk laughed, and pulled him forward by his prick again, lifting him higher this time, then letting his body swing back. The pain was secondary to the helpless feeling of desire that spread out in great waves.

“Please what? This?”

The Hulk began to stroke his cock again, almost gently between thumb and forefinger, and Loki moaned.

He didn’t want to cum, not like this and yet his need rose and rose in him like wings unfurling, and all at once he was overcome, crying out as his spend spilled out onto the Hulk’s forefinger.

The monster threw his head back and laughed, and then the great rough finger was rubbing Loki’s own spend into his face, taking its time to daub him from forehead to chin as he twisted and spat, covering his lips, pushing his own cum into his nose, across his desperately squinting eyelids.

“Only little mess. Get messier soon.”

The Hulk released him and Loki tumbled back onto the floor, as the Hulk sucked his finger meditatively. 

“God taste good. Your turn.”

He leaned back on his elbows expectantly.

Loki’s head was still swimming with the power of his orgasm and he was half blinded by the spend the Hulk had slimed over his face. He could only imagine how the Grandmaster must be enjoying the spectacle of his degradation. 

But the Hulk was waiting and Loki didn’t dare make him wait. In truth he barely knew where to start. 

“What would you have me do?” 

The Hulk sighed, threw up his hands. “Talk boring. Hulk hate boring.”

Loki frowned. He’d been called a lot of things in his time. Boring was never be one of them. Shutting his eyes he summoned his Power into his fingertips, a shivery spell that projected his own desire out of his skin, to intoxicate whoever he chose to touch. Thor refused to let him use it when they lay together, but would not give him a satisfactory explanation why

_I might lose control._

Wasn’t that the point of making love, he might have asked if he’d dared risk hearing the answer?

Loki eyed the monstrous cock that was splayed out before him, resting on the Hulk’s huge belly. He reached out to run his fingers over the massive heft of the sack and when the Hulk murmured appreciatively, began to stroke with both hands, letting the magic flow from his fingers. 

_Norns, it’s the size of a normal man’s head. And that cock, look at it swell. Can I even take it inside me?_

The thought didn’t frighten him now though, it intoxicated him just as the animal smell of sweat and the huge muscles and the thick black hair that trailed down the monster’s chest intoxicated him. He leaned forward to bury his face in the great sack, licking and kissing, tasting the salt of the skin that looked almost blue under the strange swirling lights of the room. 

The Hulk moaned and Loki heard his hand begin to stroke his cock.

_No you don’t, I earned that._

He stood, and the Hulk looked up at him frowning. 

“Lie down on your back. Let _me_ serve you. My Lord.”

The Hulk’s eyes narrowed, then he smiled.

“Serve.”

He shuffled back on the bed and tucked his hands behind his head as complacent as any Asgardian Lord. 

There was no way Loki could sit astride both of the spread thighs easily, so he perched on the left one, leaning forward to press his lips to the thick veined shaft. It would never fit in his mouth, in fact it was too large to get his two hands around, and yet he found that he could use his palms to stroke the loose silky skin of the shaft and attend the head with his tongue at the same time. The Hulk rumbled appreciatively, his eyes half-lidded as Loki’ clever hands and cleverer spells pleasured his cock.

_Not bored now, are you?_

It was like nothing he could have imagined. Fully hard, the Hulk’s prick reached almost from his navel to his lips, in fact the only way he could truly service the whole of it was to lean forward with his arms wrapped around the straining shaft, cradling it to his chest, using his upper body to jerk the stiff cock as the Hulk growled his approval. The head pressed snugly against his face and Loki lapped at the slit, eyes widening as a steady stream of pre-cum started to leak out.

_Green. No one would ever believe this even if I did tell them._

As Loki worked the monster’s swelling cock the stream became a torrent, Loki’s chin and chest were soon slick with the beast’s spend and now the cock slid deliciously in his arms. He used his legs to move himself up and down almost as if he were riding a prick instead of holding one to his body. His own erection rubbed slickly against the Hulk’s thigh as he slid, and he felt another orgasm rising within him.

“Faster.”

Loki tried his best to obey, but it obviously wasn’t fast enough.

All of a sudden the Hulk’s hands gripped his shoulders.

“Hold tighter.”

Loki obeyed, hugging the Hulk’s cock to his chest, and now the Hulk began to shove him up and down.

_By the Nine, he’s using my whole damned body to jerk his prick!_

The musky sex scent of the huge shaft that nudged into his face over and over, the sensation of the throbbing hardness sliding in his arms and rubbing against his slick chest, the strength in the hands that used his body as a bizarre sex toy- all of it was far more exciting than anything he could have imagined. The monster’s chest rose and fell as his breathing quickened, and Loki too began to pant, giving up all control of his own body except for his grip around the beast’s shaft, letting himself be used as the Hulk wished. 

“Open mouth. Swallow.”

Loki found his face being shoved against the head of the huge cock and opened his mouth just in time to catch the first eruption. No one could have swallowed it all, but the Hulk seemed determined to make him try, pressing his face to the pushing slit as Loki gulped load after load, the hot thick cum filling his throat in endless gouts. It covered his face, poured down his arms and his chest, drenched him in hot salty spend, and still it kept coming as he swallowed and licked.

When it was over his stomach was tight and distended, and he felt half-drowned in spend.

Somewhere he heard the sound of applause.

“I told you he was special, huh?” Said the Grandmaster. “Uh I guess that applies equally to both of you.”

Loki was too dazed to reply. _I must look like I’ve bathed in the stuff._

But he was given no time to recover. Instead a huge hand scooped him up and flipped him onto his belly to lie in the puddle of warm spend that covered the bed.

“Filled one end. Time for other.”

Loki didn’t need to ask what the Hulk meant, one of the huge fingers pushed between his cheeks to rub at his hole with surprising gentleness. His stomach was full and uncomfortable underneath him, but he got the feeling the Hulk meant to make good on his promise whatever Loki thought of it.

Even the finger would have been difficult to take without his magic, but his powers allowed him to control his body as he wished, and he felt only a little discomfort as the roughened tip nudged at his tender ring. He breathed out, relaxing his muscles as best he could, but he still cried out when his body gave in and the Hulk’s slick finger slid inside him. He felt his hole clenching around the finger trying to refuse its passage, but the Hulk pushed in deeper and deeper, making Loki feel every inch up to his first knuckle.

“Tight. Hulk break you in. Make you fuck good.”

The finger withdrew in a rush that made him gasp, and then it returned, slimy and cool, pushing deep inside him again, forcing him open, only to withdraw, and then return again newly dripping over and over. Loki realized that the creature was amusing himself by swabbing his own spend from the bed and scooping it into Loki’s hole. 

“Get little God ready to take Hulk’s cock.”

He could already feel thick gobs of cum filling his passage, cold and wet and slick as though he’d spent the evening being used by a tavern full of men instead of one great monster. That thought, plus the strong finger the size of a normal man’s prick spreading him again and again, rubbing against his prostate, owning his helplessly gaped hole, brought him back up to the edge of his own orgasm.

“Big mess now, Little God.”

Then the hand pressed flat on Loki’s shoulders and back rubbing his whole body back and forth in the soupy mess below him. Loki’s spat and spluttered. It was in his hair, in his nose, his ass, there was not a part of him the Hulk hadn’t marked with his cum.

“Please!”

He wasn’t sure if he was pleading for more or less, but the Hulk apparently translated it as the latter, flopping back onto the bed, almost bouncing Loki off it.

“Come here, little God.”

Loki, slithering and slipping managed to crawl to his knees, and the Hulk slung am arm around him pulling him onto his chest. 

“Hulk like Grandmaster’s Pet. More fun than Loki of Asgard.”

Loki opened his mouth to argue, then shut it, enjoying the sensation of the great chest rising and falling below him. 

“Little God want Hulk’s cock?”

There was still a part of him that wanted to deny it. but the Hulk’s finger inside him had left him needing to be filled and he fixed his eyes on the Hulk’s.

“Yes My Lord, will you fill me, as you said?”

Hulk laughed, almost dislodging Loki from his perch.

“You want Hulk to fuck you, Pretty God?”

Loki couldn’t meet his eyes as he nodded. “Please.”

“Hulk come more. That only little one. Hulk come big.”

_Bigger than that?_

“I can handle you, My Lord. Please, I...I’m begging you to take me. I never had a cock as big as yours in my life and I’d have it now, it it pleases you.”

“Hulk pleased.”

He prodded Loki into a sitting position and began to rub a slippery finger up and down the length of Loki’s erection. The God put his head back and moaned. 

“Little God so easy.”

Loki felt himself blushing, but he couldn’t deny it. 

The Hulk’s hands closed around his hips. The slipperiness of their bodies made it a tricky thing but the Hulk moved Loki down his body, so that the head of his mighty cock brushed Loki’s buttocks. Even after discharging that great flood of spend it was still hard and apparently as eager as ever.

Loki worked his hips, rubbing his slick ass against the Hulk’s cock head, feeling it nudge tantalizingly across his opening. Could he do it? The thing was wider than two clenched fists by far. _You know that you can. You know that you want to, so why pretend?_

His power rose within him, his need to be filled and dominated and mastered merging with his magic to allow his body to do what was needed as the Hulk pushed him backwards, the head of his cock now snubbing against Loki’s anus, beginning to press it open.

It felt even bigger than it looked, spreading his ring wide, wider, beyond what any mortal could have managed. He felt the head begin to crest, breaching the swollen knot, and then suddenly the great shaft slipped within him in one long movement, spreading the sensitive, delicate walls deliciously, impossibly wide, filling him more completely than he’d ever been filled before.

The Hulk was groaning, but Loki’s own cries of pleasure almost drowned him out. He felt half mad with it.

He knelt astride the Hulk’s belly, a third of the shaft buried within him, head hanging down. 

_Can I take all of it? Can I ride it?_

The Hulk made the decision for him, raising his upper body off the bed so that Loki slid backwards onto the shaft that impaled him, the gallons of slippery spend that covered his hands and his thighs making it impossible to halt the penetration of the huge cock into his bowels.

Wave after wave of pleasure consumed him as he felt his body opening up to the Hulk. He was aware that he was cumming again, his own spend pouring from his throbbing prick, and still he slid back onto the Hulk’s cock, feeling it pressing up into him deeper and deeper.

The Hulk pushed him gently backwards so that he was sitting up straight, legs in an almost impossibly wide kneeling position on the Hulk’s hips, helpless to do anything but sink the last few inches down onto the shaft as the Hulk lay back down again.

He heard more applause somewhere in the room but was beyond caring. He felt dizzy with arousal, and when the Hulks hands began to tease at his chest and his nipples and his helplessly cumming cock he felt tears begin to roll down his face.

“God Ride.”

“I...I can’t.”

“Can.”

The Hulk bucked his hips and Loki wailed as he shot upwards a few inches and came back down.

“No, it’s...too much.”

“God _like_.”

_Like is an understatement_. His orgasm seemed to have stopped but he could feel it still near, not just in his half-hard cock, but gathering like a supercharge around his prostate.

The Hulk slid his hands around Loki’s rib cage to steady him and bucked his hips again, shooting him up a good foot and letting him fall back down so that the God howled. The pressure on his insides was not painful exactly, but it was beyond any sensation he’d ever experienced before, and the pressure of the vast cock buried within him slamming into his bladder was uncomfortable in an entirely different way. The Hulk jerked his hips again and Loki tried to brace his legs to stop slow his fall but his skin was too slippery to get any purchase. Again and again the Hulk bounced him upward, only to fall back down over and over. Each time he felt his bladder try to let go as the Hulk’s cockhead pressed into it.

“Please stop...I can’t take it.”

“God take it.”

“I’m...” the words were too humiliating to speak, and yet the act would be more shameful still. “You’re going to make me piss. I can’t hold it if you do that.”

“Do what? Do this?”

Loki found himself bucked into the air again, even higher this time, the cock rushing out of him almost halfway, then plunging back in, buffeting his aching bladder.

“Please my Lord, I can’t hold it if you...”

“Hulk not care. Piss. Don’t piss. Not matter. Get messier soon anyway.”

“But I...”

But now the Hulk’s hands slid tighter around his ribs and the Hulk began to fuck into him in earnest. The shift and drag of the huge member of his helpless walls made him wail with pleasure, but the relentless battering of the cockhead against his bladder was excruciating and in spite of his struggles he felt his command begin to slip.

“Please don’t make me...” But the Hulk didn’t listen, in fact he began to punish him harder, shoving his body down with renewed force. _He’s trying to make me do it. He means to debase me utterly. To have his revenge for Midgard_. He tried in vain to clench down, to save the last of his pride, but it was impossible. 

Loki whimpered as the first spurt of hot piss flowed uncontrollably out of his cock. He tried to regain his control, but it was totally beyond him, and the humiliation he felt as fresh trickles of piss flowed from his aching, half-hard prick every time the Hulk shoved into him surpassed even his torture in the Grandmaster’s chair.

The Hulk laughed, a guttural, spiteful sound.

“Bad God. Make mess.”

“Oh Norns, I’m going to come again.”

“God _like_ mess.”

Loki’s orgasm was dizzying, his cock aching with it.

_How do I have anything left in me?_

His own spend added to the sloppy filth that his thighs slithered in. A mingling of cum and piss and sweat that ought to have repulsed him but that made him want to stay here in this place, this mindset forever.

His abused, gaping hole strained and quivered as the Hulk drove into him again and again. He had no control now, just held himself as stiffly as he could and let the Hulk use his defenseless hole to pleasure himself. The Monster was breathing quickly now, sweat rolling off the huge muscle.

“Hulk fill Pretty God.”

“Fuck yes, fill me, damn you.”

He felt the Hulk’s roar vibrate through the mighty body and the sensation against the swollen bud of his crushed prostate made him start to cum again, deep within his body this time.

He felt the Hulk’s shaft pulse within him. Once, twice, and then moaned as the hot torrent of spend shot inside him- more even than it had before, filling him, flowing out over his legs. The Hulk held him firmly in place, made him feel each agonisingly pleasurable pulse as the creature’s come surged into his limp, abused body. His own final orgasm was the most powerful he’d ever known, making his head swim and his whole body shudder with wave after wave of pleasure. If it wasn’t for the Hulk’s hands holding him in place he might have fallen, but the hands steadied him, and now he felt the huge cock start to go soft inside him as the Hulk drained the last of his spend into Loki's exhausted body.

The Hulk pulled out of him in one long motion that made him moan, and firmly but gently pushed him aside, tumbling him on to his overfull belly in the flooded ruin of the bed. He felt the creature’s spend flowing out of his stretched hole in hot waves to join the thick puddle around him and moaned.

“Hulk done. Sleep now.”

The bed bounced alarmingly as the creature clambered to his feet. With some difficulty, Loki slithered over onto his back, looking up at the vast creature.

“God fun. Again soon.”

Loki couldn’t speak. _Again soon_ might actually kill him, God or not. And yet he knew that if the beast had desired to mount him again now he’d have submitted to it. The creature’s spend still flowed out of him as he turned his great glistening back and stalked out of the room.

_Not one for pillow talk, then._

The swirl of the lights ceased their crazy motion, but thankfully the room stayed dim. He was aware of the Grandmaster’s footsteps approaching the bed.

“Yikes, you look....well, _perfect_ , delicious! But I think the bed is a write-off.”

Loki could only look up into his Master’s face.

“You liked that, huh?”

Loki nodded.

“Words, Pet.”

“Yes, Master.”

“I liked it too. I’m almost jealous. I’m not sure if I’m jealous of him or you. Probably him. You looked _good_ up there, Pet.”

“Thank you, Master,” said Loki weakly.

“You know it could happen again. And not just with him. We get all sorts of characters land on Sakaar. You could have your pick.”

“My pick?”

“Sure. You’re not a slave any more, are you?” The Grandmaster dangled his collar from a finger. The control band was looped through it. He tossed it onto the bed next to Loki. “Keep it. Call it a souvenir.”

“Are you...are you dismissing me?” he was a little alarmed by his own dismay.

“Not exactly. I have a proposal for you.”

“What proposal?”

“We’re building a city on the Southern hemisphere of Sakaar. Got that pesky little solar radiation problem sorted, and now we’re ready to build. I kinda need someone to rule it. Second in command to me, but no one else above you. You could do whatever you liked with it. Be a Prince. A Despot. Mad God Emperor, whatever kinda hurtful things they feel like calling you. Come visit me whenever you want.”

“Is this a trick?”

“That’s what Topaz asked. Boy is she mad! But it’s no trick.”

“ _Me_ , why me?”

“Because you have a talent for megalomania, and because I’d kind of like it if you hung around longer. That’s door number one. Or...”

“Or what?” 

“Or you get what’s behind door number two. Thor. I look the other way while the two of you escape. No city, no statues, no fun little mass public executions, or invasions or orgies- nothing but your Brother and you, out of here, just like he wants. Or you both want, maybe?”

He smiled. “So, what’s it gonna be?”

Loki closed his eyes. What the Grandmaster was offering was everything he’d dreamed of. A world that not only understood him but exalted him. A Kingdom of his own where his cunning won him respect and his sexual appetites admiration, where his need for power could be endlessly fulfilled by day and his need to be dominated met by a stream of endless partners by night. 

Second to the Grandmaster? Well, maybe to start with. As long as it remained amusing. _This was it._ Exactly what he’d craved when he’d first set his eyes on the city and fallen in love. There was only one issue.

“What would happen to Thor if I chose to stay here?”

The Grandmaster shook his head. “I guess he fights in the arenas until his body wears out and then we sell him on. Mercenary, asteroid miner, parts for cyberneticists; whatever.”

“Is there no way you’d consider...”

“No.”

Loki sighed. It was hardly the optimal time to be having such a conversation.

“I’m gonna have to ask you to choose now, Loki sweetie.”

Loki closed his eyes. Power, riches, all the filthy, revolting sex that his warped mind could possibly desire. What had he wanted? What had he _always_ wanted?

“The answer’s easy,” he said, quietly. “Thor. Always Thor.”

A dark look passed over the Grandmaster’s face like a cloud and then it was gone. “Well. Can’t say I’m surprised. I guess this is your last night on Sakaar, then. I’m glad it was memorable, at least. _I’ll_ always remember it.”

The Grandmaster held out a hand.

“Your robes, they’ll get covered,” protested Loki.

“I don’t care about my robes.” He took Loki’s hand and pulled him onto his feet, catching him in his arms and pulling him close before Loki could fall. He didn’t seem to mind the mess that coated Loki’s face as he kissed him.

“I’m going to miss you, Loki of Asgard.”

“I’m going to miss you, Grandmaster of Sakaar. _My_ Master.”

“I do have one last surprise for you though.”

“What is it?” Loki asked. He couldn’t imagine anything would surprise him after tonight.

The Grandmaster raised a hand. “Could we turn the holo off?” He called out. “And more daiquiris. I get the feeling that everyone is going to want a drink pretty soon.”

To Loki’s amazement the blue curtain to the right shimmered and blinked and was gone, revealing a small alcove, where a figure sat strapped into a chair.

Thor’s blue eyes met his own, wide and beseeching, full of an emotion that he couldn’t read.

“Door number two,” said the Grandmaster. “It’s a doozy, huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not OK with the amount of effort and research I had to put in to figure out how big the Hulk's cock would be in proportion to his body. I eventually decided on 'real big, and then a little extra.' Hope everyone is good with that. Loki was.


	9. Thunderfrost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Thor are confronted with their true desires, and find unity at last.

The torrent of cool, clean water that poured from the wall soothed his body, but there was no easy balm for Loki’s soul.

_Thor. He saw everything. Heard everything._

It was the cruelest trick the Grandmaster had played on him so far, and worse still, Loki could not discern the man’s intent. Was it his attempt to drive the two Brothers apart? To cement Thor’s disgust in his aberrant desires for good? 

It made a certain sort of sense. Loki had refused the Sakaarian’s boon, and allowing him to escape the planet with a Brother who loathed him would be a fitting punishment.

He desperately hoped that this was not the reason.

_Why? Did you think he really cared for you? You were a toy to be discarded, a pet to be played with and then released. He told you so enough times._

And yet he knew that his heart had been fooled. He’d thought that there was a genuine understanding between them. A chemistry between two like souls.

The Grandmaster hadn’t even allowed him to speak to Thor. He’d been wrapped in a clean sheet, and taken from the chamber with Thor still trapped in his chair, returned to his own rooms. He had his powers. He could have escaped in seconds- and yet he wasn’t ready to face the world beyond this room just yet. To face _Thor_.

There was no lie or artifice that could conceal the truth. How clever the Grandmaster had been- removing the collar! Making it quite clear that Loki had chosen his degradation. Thor would never want to lie with him again now that he knew Loki’s true predilections. 

He could barely look at him already whenever they made their form of quick, utilitarian love. Thor was a pure soul who could maybe abide a comradely warrior-to-warrior exchange of mutual physical relief, but to involve himself with someone who indulged in Loki’s twisted kind of games? Never. He’d been looking for an excuse to end their physical love almost since it had begun- Loki just knew it. This would be the perfect opportunity. Probably he’d be polite about it. Maybe even kind. And then they’d drift apart again, and who knew if they’d ever come back together?

_You were a fool to come here. A fool to think you could win. When have you ever won? Which of your plots and trickeries have not ended in disgrace?_

Cleansed of the evening’s physical debris, if not the mental Loki toweled himself off and drifted back through to his main chamber. Someone had left a platter of food for him, but he had no stomach for it. Instead he downed a goblet of the sticky blue drink the court currently favored. It did little to help the snarl of despair inside him, but perhaps one-or ten more would.

His body was clean, but still felt raw and sore from the rough treatment he’d received.

_That you asked for. Wanted. Want still. How did you ever think you were related to Thor? How could something as base as you be linked by blood to someone so wholesome?_

He glanced at his bed, plush and comfortable, but he knew that he was far too agitated for sleep. _Where’s Thor now? Cursing my name down in that foul dungeon below the Arenas? Being tormented by the man I gave myself to, willingly? The man who used me as_ _he watched?_

It was still more proof of his warped nature (if any were needed) that the thought of his Brother witnessing his punishment got his loins twitching. Had he felt pity as Loki wailed through his punishment or only disgust? Loki wanted neither. 

He ran his hands through his hair and stared out at the city as if the muddle of neon might reveal the solution to the disaster he’d made of his life.

_No? Oh well. Another drink might do it. And maybe a hot bath. With luck I might drown myself in it._

The huge gold tub was already filled with hot water which carried the faintly medicinal smell of healing botanicals, familiar to him from the aftermath of some of their other more exuberant sessions. 

_The Grandmaster really does think of everything. I can’t even be truly angry. You have to admire a maestro of cruelty of his calibre._

Loki sank into the deep water up to his chin. 

“Dim the lights!” he commanded whatever mysterious machine controlled his chamber.

Now the room was lit only by the golden shimmer that came from the bottom of the tub, and the prismatic neon outside the huge window.

Loki closed his eyes, breathing in the steam, trying to settle his mind, to think of anything he might say to Thor to make things bearable between thm at least while they escaped the planet. He was nowhere close to managing it when the door to his chambers slid open.

His fury rose in him like quicksilver. _My powers-I still have my powers and whoever opened that door is going to regret it. I don’t care if it’s the Grandmaster himself. Someone will pay for what was done to me tonight._

The figure stood sillouhetted in the doorway. Tall. Broad shoulders. Familiar.

“Brother? Are you in here?”

Loki froze. The blades that had begun to manifest in his palms flickered and were gone.

_Thor._

“Oh. Ah, you’re there. In the tub.”

Thor hovered in the doorway, the dimness of the room hiding his expression. He no longer wore the leather armor of the Arenas, but a long red robe in Sakaarian style.

_Just the thing to escape in. A bright red tripping hazard. Thank you, Grandmaster._

Thor moved into the room and the door sliding shut behind him with a finality that Loki did not care for.

“Loki. We need to talk.”

 _Ah, here it comes._ The polite brushoff. The _‘I’m sorry, but.’_ Or worse still, the _‘What the hell_ _was_ _that?’_

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Loki! Of _course_ there is.” Thor came closer, striding up to the edge of the tub. His face was drawn in an agony of concern. His eyes looked lost and bewildered.

“What I saw tonight...”

Loki winced. What he’d seen that night? It made Loki sick to think of it. He’d been whipped and petted, had crawled on his belly like a worm, had been penetrated and defiled. _And had chosen it._ Had quite obviously-even to one as innocent as Thor-loved every second of it. No wonder Thor was astonished. 

Loki was amazed he could even met his eye.

And now he wanted to talk about it? Such talk would be more agonizing than the whipping with the terrible black cane.

“Thor, please just...go away.”

“Loki, no. We’re talking about this.”

“You’re talking about this. I’m not.”

“Loki!”

Loki shook his head.

Thor sat himself down on the edge of the tub. “I’m not leaving here without talking to you.”

Loki shrugged, held his breath and allowed himself to sink beneath the surface of the water. A little childish? Perhaps! But Thor brought that out in him.

It was peaceful down here. A warm, golden glow where reality need not intrude. Where he _certainly_ didn’t have to hear his saintly Brother very earnestly and tactfully ask him why he’d enjoyed taking his fellow Avenger’s monster-sized prick up the arse until he’d pissed himself.

_OhGodsOhGodsOhGods! He saw that too. He saw everything._

Loki was aware of a disturbance in the water. Of a foot kicking his own. And then a pair of strong hands clamped around his wrists and he felt himself hauled to the surface.

“Loki! Have you gone insane? What are you doing?”

“Hiding.”

“It’s...it’s not a very good hiding place,” said Thor.

“It was until you jumped in with me.” Loki suddenly realised that Thor’s red robe lay crumpled on the floor a few feet away and felt his face flush. Sitting naked in a bathtub together was not the venue he’d pictured for this conversation. He was very aware of his Brother’s strong hands around his wrists and pulled his arms away.

“How else was I to talk with you?” said Thor.

“I already told you, I don’t want to talk.”

“Brother...what happened tonight...”

Loki closed his eyes. “What happened tonight was the Grandmaster’s idea of a cruel trick.”

Thor shook his head. “No. I hate to admit it after everything that loathsome man has done, but I think...I think he was trying to help.”

Loki laughed. “To help? Help what? Help you to see me for what I really am?”

“Yes.” Thor spoke softly.

“Well,” said Loki. “Now you’ve seen it. Me as I really am.”

“I’m glad of it.”

Loki could not believe what he was hearing. “Why? Because it confirmed everything you’ve always suspected of me?”

Thor frowned. “No. Norns, no _-_ if I’d _ever_ suspected...” he was stuttering, searching for the right words and even now Loki’s heart went out to him. It couldn’t be easy having a Brother like himself.

“Look Thor, it’s fine. I’m broken. You’ve always known it. That’s why you’d never...” 

_Love me._

Those were the words that came next, but they were too hollow to speak aloud.

“It’s alright. We’ll leave here tomorrow; I believe he’ll keep his promise to me. And after that you’ll never have to see me again.”

Thor sighed. “Is that what you think I want?”

“Of course.”

“Loki, you really are an idiot at times.”

Thor’s arms slipped around Loki, who was too stunned to react. He felt himself pulled close to Thor, their chests pressing together as he was pulled into his Brother’s lap. Thor’s hand moved up to gently cup the back of his head.

“Thor...”

“Shut up, Loki. For once in your life just shut up.” 

Thor’s lips grazed his own, softly The blue eyes flicked up to meet Loki’s, and Loki was lost in them. Thor’s tongue darted out to part his lips, gently but firmly, and then his Brother’s mouth was pressed against his own in a deep, passionate kiss that Loki made no attempt to decipher the meaning of. Thor’s hands ran up and down his back, the thumbs rubbing circles on his aching flesh. They petted and soothed him and he found himself all but melting into Thor’s body, his own arms wrapped around shifting muscle of Thor’s shoulders, his legs around Thor’s hips. His cock was making a valiant effort at an erection, an effort that succeeded as it rubbed against Thor’s own hard member. The familiar scent of him, ozone and musk and leather overwhelmed his senses, far more intoxicating than the faint imitation of the Grandmaster’s peculiar potion.

When they broke off he found he was trembling.

“Why, Thor?”

“Because I love you. And now I realise that you want...or I hope that you _want_ my love. That you care for me.”

“Of course I want your love,” said Loki, faintly. The words tumbled out of him. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted, all my life. But how could I ever be worthy of it? You’ve seen the kind of love I crave.”

Thor shook his head. “We might not be related by blood but how could anyone doubt we grew side by side on the same branch of Yggdrasil? We were made for each other, you and I. Different sides of the same coin. You dark, I fair. You of ice and I of heat. You with your need to submit- don’t shake your head, I saw you. And I who only want...”

“Want what?” whispered Loki.

“Why to rule you, Brother. To make you mine.”

Loki’s heart was beating very fast. Could it be true what he was hearing?

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t _you_ tell _me_? Do you remember the first time we made love?”

“Yes, said Loki. You were drunk.” He considered. “I always assumed you wouldn’t have done it otherwise. I was surprised when you came back. But you’d never talk of it. Never look at me! Certainly never kiss me!”

Thor sighed. “I was a coward, Brother. I thought that if you knew what I really wanted you’d end what we had. And I was determined to hold onto even that pitiful scrap for as long as I could.”

Loki felt stunned. “Why are you telling me this now?”

Thor laughed. “That damned Grandmaster of yours. He set us up so you’d have no choice but to show me the treatment you desired and so that I’d have no choice but to see it, finally. How he guessed that I wanted it too...”

“He’s clever,” said Loki. “Cleverer even than me, perhaps.”

“Perhaps.” Thor brushed the hair back from Loki’s face. “Did you really enjoy all the things he made you do? To submit to him in that way? To be...to be used like that.”

Loki dropped his eyes. Even now it was hard to admit, but Thor’s arms around him gave him courage.

“Yes, Brother, I did.” He swallowed. Gathered his nerve. “The only thing I would have liked more was if it had been you commanding me.”

Thor’s eyes narrowed. Loki knew that look- the warrior about to strike.

“Wait, Thor, what are you...?”

He yelped as Thor lifted him up out of the water in a sweep of his arms. His own arms flew around Thor’s shoulders.

“Thor, what are you doing?”

Thor stepped out of the tub with Loki in his arms and strode towards the bed.

_Is this really happening? Is he really going to...?_

But then Loki was falling, to land with a bounce on the soft quilt, and Thor was on him a second later, the muscular body pinning him down, warm water dripping into his face as Thor kissed him, the stubble of his cheek scraping against Loki’s skin, his tongue rough and insistent. He felt the slide of Thor’s cock against his own and shivered, wrapping his legs around the Thunder God’s slender waist.

“You still want more don’t you?” Thor growled. “Even after the Hulk.”

Loki blushed. “I can’t believe you saw that.”

“I can’t believe you begged for his cock. Did you like it?”

Loki turned his head away, but Thor’s hand shot up to grab at his hair- his scalp still sensitive from his earlier ill-treatment- and pulled his head around to face him. 

“Tell me. Did you like it?”

“ _Ahh_ , yes. I...liked it.”

“What did you like? I’d hear you say it.”

When had he ever heard Thor so commanding? He ought to have been exhausted, yet the new edge of steel in Thor’s voice- not to mention his body- as warm and beautiful and alluring as he’d imagined it all the time they’d been apart pinioning him to the bed had his prick more than ready yet again.

“I...I liked it when the beast fucked me.”

“And what else?”

Loki closed his eyes, then yelped when Thor gave his nipple a sharp pinch.

“I liked it when the Grandmaster put me over his knee and whipped me.”

“And what else?”

“I liked being filled with the Beast’s spend. And I liked being fucked in front of the whole of the Sakaarian Court, and tied up and tormented and teased for days upon days until I thought I’d go mad from it. And I like this, Brother. I _love_ this. I love _you_.”

Thor bent his neck to rest his forehead against Loki’s. 

“I love you too. You’d really give yourself to me? The way you did to him?”

“Yes,” breathed Loki. “In was you I thought of over and over. I called him Master, and he was for a while, but it was always you, Thor. You’ve always had my body and I’ll gladly give up the rest of myself to you. If you’d truly take it.”

Thor kissed his neck, his eyelids, his mouth. “Aye, I’ll take it, Brother. Forgive me if I’m not as rough with you as you might wish. That will come- I’ve dreamed of it often enough. But for now I wish to look at you. Let me see what I own. Let me enjoy my victory.”

He kissed Loki’s mouth again. “And perhaps after tonight you may want a little gentleness? There’s no reason we may not enjoy both?”

Loki smiled. “What was it that wretched old Stableman used to say when we were boys? A good master knows when to gentle and when to wield the whip.”

Thor shook his head, “Oh brother, don’t tempt me with talk of the whip. Have you any idea how long you’ve had it coming?”

“Have you any idea how long I’ve waited? If I’d known it would only take two attempted planetary invasions to persuade you, I would have done this years ago.”

Thor shook his head. “Still the same Loki. If I thought it was possible to whip the mischief out of you I’d be disappointed.”

“I hope you intend to try anyway. You always did have a talent for fighting losing battles.”

“Hush, Brother. Let me enjoy you. In fact, I want your hands bound and your legs as well. Can your magic do that? There’s nothing else to bind you with in this room.”

“There’s little my magic cannot do.”

Thor pinched Loki’s nipple again. “No more boasting either. How does your Grandmaster silence that tongue? Nevermind, I think I’m going to enjoy finding out for myself.”

Thor rolled off Loki, and he propped himself up on his elbows, searching for the right spell. As he began to combine the strands of magic, his eye fell on a shining object on the low table next to the bed-The silver collar, with the command bracelet still looped through it.

He’d given the object little thought since the Grandmaster had returned it to him. It seemed that someone had retrieved it from the chamber and had polished it and left it here for him. _Like a gift from Fate herself._

Loki frowned, considering the new idea that the sight of the collar had given him.

_Suppose he says no? Suppose you change your mind?_

_Suppose you stop struggling against your own nature?_

“Thor...what if there was a way for you to have control of my magic? And of the rest of me too.”

Thor frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you can hardly keep asking me to tie myself up when we’re bereft of rope, and you’ve no hope of conquering me otherwise, so I really think it’s best if we...Ow!”

Thor’s slap on his inner thigh both delighted him and made his cock stiffen. Oh this was going to be _fun_.

“It’s a last gift from the Grandmaster, really.”

He felt almost shy as he lifted the collar and detached the silver bracelet from it. _After everything he’s seen you do this evening, how can you still feel shy?_ It was an unfamiliar emotion to him period- allowing himself to be vulnerable to another was anathema to him under normal circumstances- which was perhaps why he craved it so in the bed chamber?

“What is it?” asked Thor.

“Hold out your wrist- The Grandmaster used it to control my power. To control me.”

“Loki,” said Thor, “are you sure you want to give this to me?”

“No, not entirely. But I trust you. It...it feels right, somehow.”

Thor nodded. Held out his arm. Loki bent and pressed his lips to the back of Thor’s hand then closed the silver band around his Brother’s arm where it gleamed dully amidst the brighter shine of the golden hair that grew there.

Thor held up his wrist inspecting it. “Peculiar. I can feel it interacting with my power, somehow. How does it work?”

“I don’t know. The Grandmaster said it was as simple as thinking what you wished to happen. But I need to be wearing the collar.” He picked it up and began to bring it to his neck, but Thor took his arm gently.

“If you really want this...”

“I do.”  
“Then I should put it on you myself, don’t you think?”

Loki felt a small thrill of excitement at Thor’s words and relief that Thor understood so well what this meant to him.

“Sit up on your knees, face me,” said Thor, and Loki did as he was told, handing the collar to Thor who mirrored his pose. 

Loki frowned. His Seider was prickling within him as though sensing some shift in the flow of power between them.

“Lift your hair up,” Thor’s voice was gentle but the note of command was still there.

Loki lifted his hair back, hands at the back of his head.

The cool metal made him shiver when Thor slipped the collar around his neck, and when the mechanism clicked into place Loki gasped as his magic flared.

“I felt it too,” said Thor. “Was it like this before, with the Grandmaster?”

“No,” said Loki, slowly. “I think it’s something to do with the two of us. Our natures. It’s like I can feel a little of your own bleeding into mine.” He closed his eyes. _Rolling black thunderheads, the lightning coiled inside like writhing serpents ready to strike_. “I can feel the storm.” He shivered.

Thor’s eyes were wide. “I feel yours too. Like a shadow of ice. I wonder what it means?”

“I don’t know, but it feels like something has shifted, does it not?” He frowned, trying to read the portents in the magical world that always lay just behind the one they dwelled in. “I’d need hours to figure it out properly, but it feels like a change for the better, and nothing ill.”

He shuddered, trying to shake the feeling off, not wanting to be distracted by it. “But does it work? Can you command me?”

“Lie down, on your back.”

The sensation was far stronger than anything he’d experienced with the Grandmaster. Like the impulse had been his own and not a foreign invasion. He felt a flair in the magics again- thunder reaching out to frost, the two elements touching in the space between his soul and Thor’s, creating some new power.

Thor’s eyes were wide. “What manner of magic is this?”

“Never mind _this_ magic, can you use mine?”

Thor frowned. “I don’t know...I think...”

“Just visualise what you want the magic to do and...oh!” The sensation of having the spell pulled out of him was far stranger than the sudden unbrookable urge to move his body. He was the weaver of the glimmering green and gold bonds that flowed out of the bedposts to wrap around his feet and his ankles, but the will behind the magic was Thor’s.

Thor looked as startled as Loki felt, but his astonishment soon gave way to a smile. “Oh I like this very much. Tighter.”

Loki gasped as the enchanted bonds stretched his body taught, and Thor laughed.

“Look at you there, the Mighty Loki of Asgard, helpless to resist me.”

“I always was. No matter how little I wanted to be.”

Thor traced a finger down Loki’s chest. “Liar. I can see you want it.” 

Something about the way the silver collar had merged their Seider had them both giddy and breathing quickly as though they’d drunk of some very potent mead.

“How lovely you are,” said Thor.

He’d been told so before and yet he’d never considered himself beautiful. Had certainly never hoped that Thor- the most beautiful being he’d seen in any world might think so. His Brother had never wanted to look at him before, yet now it seemed like he couldn’t stop looking.

“I’m making up for lost time,”

Loki frowned. 

“Yes, I can hear your thoughts a little. Not the words, but the tune of them.”

Loki’s concern must have shown on his face.

Thor chuckled. “Too late to back out now, Loki. You’re mine. There’s no part of you hidden from me.”

And hearing it said aloud made it alright.

“Then see me Thor- _Master_. See all of me. Own me.”

“Master, then.” Thor nodded. “I mean to be worthy of it.”

His hands began to explore Loki’s body, and unable to move he had no choice but to relax and let himself thrill to the sensation of the strong hands running over his skin as though he were some precious treasure to be admired. Thor’s fingers trailed down his upstretched arms, making him break out in shivery gooseflesh.

“Do you like this?” 

The warm palms ran over his nipples, the taught plane of his belly, his long slender thighs, and then back up to toy with the hard shaft of his cock.

“Oh Norns, Master, _Yes_.”

“Good, Brother, for you could not prevent me even if you wished to.”

The words made Loki moan and buck his hips into Thor’s hand.

“Still so eager, after everything you went through. Do you know that it made me hard to watch you treated so?”

Loki could only gasp as Thor’s hand worked his hungry prick.

“Nothing to say? Well, that’s unusual. If you’re not going to speak anyway...”

Thor released his cock and moved up the bed to straddle Loki’s face. 

“Do I need to tell you what to do?”

He’d knelt to his brother before, but this was different- not the quick, almost anonymous fumble but luxurious enjoyment. He ran his tongue up the underside of Thor’s shaft, then sucked the head into his mouth, Thor shifting the angle of his hips so that he could fuck the whole of his prick into Loki’s helpless mouth in deep delicious strokes. It had never been like this. The scent of Thor, the taste of him a clean salt-taste the feeling of their Sieders mingling, lighting with frost; It was dizzying.

“Your mouth feels like warm velvet but I want to be inside your other hole Brother. I need to reclaim you from Banner at the very least. Oh, but that clever tongue of yours...”

He withdrew from Loki’s mouth and Loki felt a momentary sense of loss, but then Thor was pressing close to him again, this time his own hole pushed against Loki’s lips.

_This is certainly not something he’s allowed me before!_

He could feel his cock beginning to drip as his tongue slid over the silky bud. His nose was pressed into the light golden hair that covered his Brother’s sack and he sighed at the scent of him so warm and good as his tongue drew moans of pleasure from the Thunder God.

He pressed his tongue forward, through the tight knot of flesh into the virgin passage, licking and worshiping.

“Oh Loki, Norns, I can’t last much longer.”

_Then don’t, there will be time enough for more of this this later. Take me._

He didn’t speak the words aloud, but he _felt_ Thor hear them.

He gasped as he felt his own magic being twisted inside him, the magical ropes releasing him, Thor withdrawing.

“Up on your hands and knees Brother, I’d mount you like the slave you are.”

Thor’s hand landed a sharp, stinging slap on his thigh as he hurried to obey.

“Open your legs, show me where you want me, as you showed Banner. I could see how you enjoyed it.”

Blushing Loki did as Thor commanded, arching his back and spreading his knees as wide as you could.

“Still so swollen. You look like an animal in heat.”

He’d never heard his Brother speak this way before and it almost shocked him. But not half as much as it aroused him.

He felt his magic surge again and Thor’ fingers, dripping with the cool oil that he’d conjured slid in to Loki’s unprepared hole.

“Good, cry out, as you cried out for the Hulk, you wanton. I know that it isn’t pain that makes you wail so.”

“Oh Thor- Master, _please_.”

“Please what?” 

Another sharp slap landed on his already bruised buttocks and Loki bit his lip.

“Did you mean to say ‘Please fuck me like the hungry whore I am?”

“Y...yes,”

Another slap that made him throw his head back and howl.

“Then say it!”  
Loki did, and a lot more besides. He could feel his Brother’s amusement in his head, and feel how much Loki’s low, pleading tones aroused him.

_No secrets now. Nothing hidden between us._

Thor’s fingertips dug into his hips as he lined his cock up to press into Loki’s tender hole. The real thing now, not that false substitute. Thor had taken him in this way before, many times, but it had never like this- so intimate and so freighted with love and with trust and his desire to submit to Thor’s will. 

The Thunder God pushed in with one delicious thrust, making Loki take the whole of his length. If he’d imagined that Thor might feel small to him after taking the Hulk, he soon discovered he was mistaken. Thor filled him almost to the point of discomfort, but never quite past his limit.

_Like we were made for each other._

“We are,” said Thor. He rocked his hips just barely, not pulling back forcing Loki to feel every inch of him. “Are you ready for me?”

“I’ve been ready a long time,” said Loki.

It was good. It was good the first time, and better the second, and by the third Loki felt he could have flown home to Asgard without a spacecraft.

They slept tangled in each other’s arms, and he’d never slept so soundly, never felt so safe.

“Do you think you’ll come to regret it?” Thor had asked him, just before sleep had claimed them. “He offered you everything you ever wanted.”

“So he did,” said Loki. “And now I have it.”

* * *

The Grandmaster woke them at dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is anyone else not OK with the way they all fly off happily at the end of Ragnarok and then get almost immediately TOTALLY THANOS MURDERED?  
> I actually find Ragnarok kind of depressing because of this.  
> So in this take on Ragnarok the power of thunderfrost defeats motherflipping death right in the bony face, and the hot Thorki action rewrites FATE AND TIME so no one dies. That's what's going on with the silver collar.  
> I already broke myself/the universe with Loki/Hulk watersports, so the gloves are off, the rules are out the window and when this story ends, Thanos is going down (off-screen.)


	10. Ragnarok

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An ending to Loki's saga on Sakaar.

The Grandmaster sat on the edge of the bed, and Loki blinked up at him, feeling Thor stir beside him.

“You guys look cozy.”

Loki said nothing. He couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge of resentment over the way the Sakaarian had set them up- true it had been to his benefit, but he wasn’t accustomed to feeling outwitted.

“Do you still plan to release us?”

The Grandmaster nodded. “Sure. A promise is a promise. You get an hour before I officially notice you’re missing. Should be enough for a smart guy like you.”

Thor rolled over next to him, groaning. “Who is that? Oh.  _ You _ .”

“Morning, Sparkles- don’t get up. I just popped by to say Goodbye to your Brother here.”

He reached out and touched Loki’s collar. “I’m glad you decided to keep it. It’s a good look on you. Don’t suppose you feel like one for the road?”

“No,” growled Thor, sitting up. 

The Grandmaster held up his hands “Can’t blame a guy for asking.”

Loki struggled to a sitting position. “I can’t exactly say thank you.”

“Well, you could, but you won’t. Is that about right,” said the Grandmaster.

“That’s about right. But it’s been...” he smiled. “An education.”

Loki leaned forward and kissed the Grandmaster.

“Brother, enough!” grumbled Thor.

“You’re welcome, Sparkles. Take care of him for me.”

The man rose. “Your hour starts when the door closes.”

Loki watched him go with a strange feeling of mingled relief and regret, but Thor’s arms wrapping around him and the scrape of the bristled cheek on his neck as he planted a kiss on Loki’s collar bone went some way towards banishing any sadness he felt.

“Well,” said Loki “Much as I’d like to stay here, I suppose the clock is ticking.”

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up stretching. 

“Come on, let’s be gone from here. We’ve a planet to save. Unless you’d rather do something difficult.”

Thor grinned at him. “After we save Asgard I plan to do something difficult over and over again. And no hiding it this time.”

Loki frowned. To be acknowledged as Thor’s lover before all of Asgard was a little daunting. And yet it was also as hot as hell.

“I hope you plan to take me on your throne when you’re King,” he said, and was gratified to see Thor blush.

He conjured them each a set of armor relishing again the return of his powers. Relishing still more when he felt Thor’s will tugging at his magic, making the leather britches a little tighter and the shirt front a little lower.

“So your collar will show,” said Thor. “Perhaps it will help you remember to be respectful.”

“It seems unlikely, but I’m happy you mean to try. Shall we steal a ship then?”

Thor shook his head. “First we must steal a Hulk.”

“Loki laughed. “How do you mean to do that?”

“There are some in this city that will help me,” said Thor. “You’re not the only one who made friends here. Although I must say your methods were different to my own.”

Loki shrugged. “We work with what we’re given. Good, let’s do it. But if the beast rips off anything vital, don’t blame me.”

Thor shook his head. “We need to talk him into being Banner again.”

Loki made a face.”I prefer the Hulk.”

“So I saw.”

“Not like that- I remember Banner from Midgard. Nervous creature. He looks at me oddly.”

Thor chuckled. “I’ll warrant he’ll look at you more oddly still after your little performance last night.”

Loki laughed. “This plan of yours sounds better all the time.”

“The Grandmaster will be angry,” said Thor.

“Furious.”

“He’ll come after us.”

“And if we’re very lucky,” said Loki “He might catch us.”

* * *

_ Ragnarok.  _

_ The end of an old world the beginning of a new. _

They fight at each other’s side, forging a path through the universe together. Thunder and Frost united to form an element more powerful than most.

His Brother is King, and if it bothers him sometimes to be no more than consort, the special kind of love between them heals the wounds that would otherwise fester. If it chafes his pride to yield to his Brother he knows those damaged structures of conceit will be torn away entirely in a few hours time by Thor’s dominance of him, and rebuilt, strong and new by his love.

The Grandmaster enters his life again several times over the centuries, growing weirder and wilier- always appearing when Loki least expects it, and each time he learns something new. The education continues, and Loki remains an eager student.


End file.
